


The Hand of Wrath

by cheile (Cheile)



Category: seaQuest
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Drama, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Physical Abuse, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-05
Updated: 2015-08-17
Packaged: 2017-12-22 13:37:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 16
Words: 53,455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/913814
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cheile/pseuds/cheile
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Marilyn Stark died, no one gave a thought to those she left behind.  But her grieving lover has not forgotten--and intends to make Nathan Bridger pay tenfold.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's notes: Wow, never thought I'd be writing for this fandom. But when the kittens bite, one must follow through if possible! This is AU--as in, I am keeping the first season crew. Many thanks to my Questie girls Darkin and Giry from the RLT forum for answering all my little questions. Also to Cam and Darkin for beta services rendered, and especially Cam for being my sounding board!
> 
> Legal B.S.: seaQuest DSV and all its canon factors are copyrighted to Rockne O'Bannon and NBC. I'm just a longtime devoted fan. (And I mean that literally....oh, the fond memories of teenage me fighting my mom for the remote on Sunday nights, LOL)

 

Prologue

_2019  
Reseda, California_

_"....if you're just joining us, we're live at the UEO Summit at Pearl Harbor, where Dr. Kristin Westphalen of the seaQuest has just accepted her award for developing a new cardiac medication from lionfish venom. We will also be live tonight at the summit banquet. It's black tie and rumor has it that famous designer Sakuya Firenze's creations will be worn, so all you fashion aficionados will have plenty to talk about on the Internex tomorrow morning...."_

Cold blue eyes glared at the television as the image switched from the perky male reporter and cut to the stage. Secretary General William Noyce was giving a hand to the person descending the stage steps, a trim, auburn-haired woman clad in a simple, but flattering black dress. She smiled at him in thanks and stepped down, returning to her seat next to a slender man with gray hair. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders for a quick hug, causing a slight blush to rise in her cheeks.

The image returned to the reporter, who began to talk about the other award winners and their accolades. Picking up the remote, Len stabbed the mute button.

"'Research'....I'm sure the pretty little doctor has been doing more than one kind of 'research'....and not just with the fish...."

The rant trailed off into silence, attention turning instead to a digital photo frame on the end table next to the remote. The current image showed a forty-something blond woman. She was wearing a Navy dress uniform and was standing at attention underneath a dogwood tree in full bloom. Her severe pose was softened by the bright smile on her face.

"That should have been you up there, baby," Len sighed, caressing the screen. A glance back at the television showed that the ceremony had ended and people were leaving, including the _seaQuest_ crew. 

Len's eyes narrowed again. "But don't worry. The UEO may have let them get away with murder, but I won't...."


	2. 1 - Lovers' Game

Chapter 1 ~ Lovers' Game

 

_Pearl Harbor, Hawaii  
Later that same evening_

 

"I hate heels."

"Now, Katie. Just pretend you're in your uniform boots."

"Easy for you to say." Katherine Hitchcock glared down at her feet, then turned a look of exasperation towards her companion. "You walk in them like you were born to. I look like I did when I was four and playing dress-up in my mom's closet."

"Nonsense. You look lovely." Kristin Westphalen offered the younger woman an encouraging smile. "Lieutenant Krieg is going to have quite the time keeping the other young men from stealing you away."

"Knowing Ben, he'll be too busy ogling all the other women there," Katie snorted, taking one final glance at the mirror in the guest quarters that she and Kristin had been given for the weekend. She wasn't used to getting this dressed up, but had to admit to herself that she looked good in her borrowed dress. It was Kelly green and one-shouldered, with a skirt that fell to the floor in soft pleats. Turning back to Kristin, she added, "Including you if he can get away with it."

"Now why would he be looking at an old woman like me for?" Kristin retorted cheerfully. "Besides, I already have a date."

"Uh-huh." The chief engineer had to bite back a knowing smirk. It was no secret to most of the _seaQuest's_ crew that captain and chief medical officer were practically an item. In Katherine's private opinion, it was past time that they admitted it openly. 

Looking at Kristin, she wondered if tonight might be the night. She had changed from the simple black dress she'd worn to the award ceremony into her borrowed gown--a shimmering, strapless creation in midnight blue. It had a beaded bodice and the tiny crystals sparkled under the overhead lights. Her shoulder-length hair was caught up in a claw comb studded with the same little crystals. Silver heels, barely visible when she moved, completed the look.

"Uh-huh what?"

"Nothing," Katie said innocently. "We'd better get going. I'm sure the others were all ready an hour ago and are pacing the lobby waiting for us."

 

(*)

 

Down in the barracks' lobby, Nathan Bridger sighed and tapped his fingers impatiently against his thigh. He had opted not to change out of his dress blues for the summit banquet, unlike the others. He knew he had to be patient and wait for everyone else to be ready so they could all leave as a group, but the waiting was getting to him. And so were the many stares and hurried salutes from starry-eyed cadets and young officers that kept passing through in the last forty-five minutes. "How much longer are they going to be?" he wondered aloud in mild exasperation.

A snicker from his right stilled his tapping fingers. "Something you find amusing, Lucas?"

Lucas Wolenczak grinned and raked his fingers through his already messy golden hair. "Captain, they're girls. Girls _always_ take forever. It's, like, an unwritten law of the universe."

"Katie's not the type to spend hours primping," Ben Krieg remarked from his seat to Lucas' right. "So, given the other factors, I'm betting it's the doc holding us up."

"What makes you assume that?" Nathan asked a little sharply.

"Oh, no insult meant to the doc, sir. But you have to figure with the press ready to descend the moment they set eyes on her, she'll want to--impress." Wilting under his superior officer's staredown, Ben shifted his gaze away and suddenly brightened. "And I think she'll succeed," he added under his breath.

Nathan's intended retort was forgotten as his gaze followed Ben's. Even the passersby stopped and stared. He rose to his feet, unable to take his eyes off Kristin as she and Katie crossed the lobby to meet them.

Lucas and Ben had also risen, but Lucas was the first of the trio to find his voice. "Wow...you guys look great. Are those the Sakuya Firenze dresses?"

"Thank you, Lucas. And they are." Kristin gave the boy a quick hug and attempted to smooth down his hair. But he ducked just out of reach, giving her a mock scowl. Shaking her head, she turned her smile on Nathan. "Nathan."

"Kristin. You--you look phenomenal." He had to smile at the blush that rose in her cheeks and did his level best to ignore the fact that everyone in the lobby was no doubt watching the two of them.

She took his offered hand and leaned up to kiss his cheek. "Thank you. You already know I think the same of you. Now, shall we get going?"

"Close your mouth, Ben. You'll catch flies." Katie was giving her fellow officer a look of annoyance at the way he was staring at her.

"Well, it isn't every day I get to see you dressed like this." Ben's eyes slid admiringly up and down the sight before him. "You always did look hot in green."

"Don't be a pig or I'll ask Shan to be my escort for the evening," she warned him as the group headed for the door.

"Oh, so complimenting you is being a pig?"

The two continued to argue all the way out to the front of the building, where they were met by Chief Shan and a security escort, and into the car that would take them to the banquet hall. Kristin leaned over to Nathan, keeping her voice low. "It's a wonder they ever were married."

"You know that old saying, Kristin. Opposites attract," he pointed out quietly, but his amused smile matched hers.

"There's opposites and then there's oil and water." Kristin shook her head.

"Really, Katie--can't you just accept a compliment for what it is? You do look good in green. Especially that particular shade of green. Come to think of it, it's the same shade as that corset top you wore on our honeymoon."

"Don't you dare bring that up again." Katie glared at her ex-husband.

"Shoreleave in Copenhagen, where we went to that nightclub....and you were dancing on the...."

_"Benjamin Arthur Krieg."_

"Arthur? _That's_ your middle name??" Lucas snorted a laugh.

"It happens to be my great-grandfather's name. What of it?"

The new argument lasted all the way up until they arrived at the banquet hall. Nathan was almost grateful for the distraction of the reporters that were waiting for them, nearly all of them wanting a quote from Kristin. Security held them back and reminded them they would get their chance to request interviews and ask questions later. That reminder didn't stop the photographers, whose cameras were going off every second.

Ben put up a hand to shield his eyes and guided Katie into the hall behind Nathan and Kristin. "If these guys stay after sunset, they won't even need outdoor lights."

"This is gonna be one _long_ night," Lucas added.

 

(*)

 

A few reporters were waiting just inside the door, but most were willing, if impatiently, to wait the extra hour and a half for the post-dinner press conference. Lucas was not amused by their behavior and covered his ears with a scowl every time they shouted over top of each other, trying to be the one chosen to have their question answered first. When it was Kristin's turn at the podium, the decibel level seemed to double. At that point, Lucas kept his hands over his ears.

Katie poked him gently in the arm. "Keep scowling and your face will freeze like that," she teased in an attempt to lighten his mood.

"I'm inclined to agree with Lucas on this one." Ben winced as the reporters made their protests heard when told that Kristin would only answer two more questions. "I know the doc is the star of the hour, but this borders on the ridiculous."

"They should be gone after this--they'll have gotten all they want. How many times can she repeat herself, after all?"

"Ah, I wouldn't bet on that, Katie. The press are vultures--they don't stop even after there's nothing left to dissect."

With dinner and the press conference over, the floor was cleared for dancing. Lucas' dark mood brightened considerably when the Noyces joined them, for their niece had accompanied them. Shannon Noyce was sixteen, with hair redder than Kristin's and a ready smile. They were soon nearly inseparable, both on and off the dance floor, though she was asked to dance by many of the young male officers and even a few of the women. 

But as Ben had put it earlier, Kristin was definitely the star of the hour. Nathan bore all the interruptions in stride, but they eventually began to wear on his nerves. As the night continued on, the crowd thinned out a little and the interruptions became fewer. Nathan danced mostly with Kristin, but also a few times with Katie, Janet Noyce and even once with young Shannon. Kristin ended up dancing with almost everyone who asked her and wasn't able to escape the dance floor for a full hour. When she finally did, she looked downright relieved.

"My feet need a break." Kristin sank into a chair against the wall next to Nathan. "Don't tell Lieutenant Krieg I said this, but he has got to learn where to put his feet."

"I won't say a word."

Yet another reporter came over to speak to Kristin, so Nathan sat back, keeping an eye both on her as well as watching Lucas and Shannon dance. A fast song was now playing and all of those on the floor were keeping up with the beat, but the two teenagers were moving so fast they were nearly a blur. He was surprised that the girl didn't fall when Lucas swung her out to arm's length and back again several times in succession.

_"Here we come, here we go! We gotta rock-rock-rock-rock...."_

"Did we ever have that much energy?!" He belatedly realized that the reporter was gone and Kristin was leaning in close, raising her voice to make herself be heard.

"Maybe thirty years ago, I might have--but certainly not now!"

The song soon wound to an end and the dancers began to disperse. Barely heard over the cheering as they left the floor, the DJ announced a ten-minute intermission.

"That. Was _awesome_." Lucas flopped back in his chair and Shannon sank into hers next to him. Both were flushed but smiling widely. "You guys should've come with us."

Nathan chuckled. "That's just too much excitement in one song for me."

"I have to agree," Kristin added. "I can dance fairly well, but what you two were doing? I couldn't have possibly kept up."

"There's another one." Shannon nodded in the direction of a reporter being trailed by a cameraman headed their way. "With the DJ taking a break, they'll figure this is a prime time to get last footage."

"We've _got_ to get rid of these guys somehow," Lucas grumbled under his breath. "They aren't even here to talk to me and I'm getting sick of their hovering. I can't imagine how the doc must feel."

"Can't Captain Bridger tell them nicely that the press conference is over?"

"Oh, I'm sure he'd _love_ to. But, he has to be 'diplomatic' and play nice for 'public relations'." Lucas made air quotes with his fingers and glared at the reporter, then suddenly grinned. "But, I also know it's really frustrating him, because he wants Doc Westphalen all to himself."

"Really?? Are they dating?"

"Officially....no. Unofficially....well, that's a matter of opinion. Let's just say I know some things, and _seaQuest_ is a pretty small boat." He raised his eyebrows and Shannon giggled under her breath. His gaze returned to the adults and he nodded towards them. "See, he's tapping his fingers. I knew it."

The reporter and her cameraman departed. Shannon raised her own eyebrows as she and Lucas watched Nathan and Kristin talk quietly for several minutes. "I can see what you mean," she finally whispered. "And if I'm not mistaken, the feeling's mutual on her end. How long have they been 'unofficially' together?"

"Pretty much since they met...." Noticing that the DJ had returned, he hopped up and extended his hand to Shannon. "I'll tell you more once we're out there."

Nathan offered Kristin his arm and they, too, headed back out onto the dance floor. "I know this is partly all for you, but if we get interrupted one more time...."

Kristin laughed softly at the frustration written on his face. "You know, Nathan, we could always slip away."

"And go where? They'd follow us--follow you, rather."

"Then we'll have to escape without them noticing, hm?" She disengaged herself from his arms. "Wait a few minutes, then follow me."

Nathan counted two minutes, watching her make her way off the dance floor without making it obvious that she was headed for the door. After she had slipped out, he glanced around and then followed her. Once outside, the change in lighting briefly startled him and he blinked for several minutes, waiting for his eyes to adjust to the moonlit path that led to the beach. It grew easier as he progressed down the path, the native vegetation blocking the light from the banquet hall. The music could still be heard, though the muted roar of the ocean was getting louder.

"Over here, Nathan."

He moved toward the shadowy figure that was Kristin, noticing that she seemed to be hunched over. "What are you doing?"

"Taking off these shoes." Kristin balanced awkwardly on one foot and he stepped forward to offer her a supportive arm to lean on while she removed them. "Thank you. They'll just get stuck in the sand, so I might as well go barefoot." 

"Makes sense." He inhaled a deep breath of ocean-scented air. "Peace and quiet, at last."

She laughed, lacing her arm through his, the shoes dangling from her free hand. "And now that you have me all to yourself, what do you have in mind?" she teased.

"I was going to ask you the same thing. It is your night, after all."

"I'll settle for the peace and quiet, actually. I never realized how quiet it can be on _seaQuest_ sometimes, until I'm around so many more people."

Nathan raised an eyebrow. "Quiet? Are you sure you're thinking of the right ship?"

"Sometimes on the night shift, it's almost peaceful. Usually, the only one making noise is Darwin--if he's even awake."

"When Darwin wants attention, he could wake the dead. I should know."

"Oh, all right--a _little_ quieter, then."

"That's better." He used his best serious-captain voice, but had to start laughing when she smacked his arm in return.

Conversation faded as they walked along the beach. There was more than enough moonlight to see where they were going. The far end was marked by a tall cliff and Kristin was the first to notice the emerging sea turtle hatchlings in its shadow. Some moved slowly, but most scurried quickly into the waiting tides. It was an extraordinary sight and they continued to watch until the last hatchling had gone into the water and the sand was once again still. They looked for signs of any other nests on the return walk, but none were apparent.

 _"This is it....last song, y'all."_ As the banquet hall came back into view, the DJ's announcement could be heard floating on the breeze. _"And it's one for you 80's children and romantics--and any Tom Cruise fans, if any still exists."_ An echo of cheering and laughter followed that comment before the first strains of the music began.

"I suppose that's our cue to return," Nathan said reluctantly. He wasn't looking forward to any remaining reporters awaiting them, which he knew there would be--and they would try to follow them all the way back to the harbor. "Sorry that we missed one last chance to dance, though."

"Oh, I wouldn't say we've missed it. We can still hear the music from here."

Nathan smiled wryly. "Then, may I have this dance, Doctor?"

"Certainly, Captain," she replied, imitating his mock-formal tone. Taking his offered hand, she tossed her shoes a few feet away and moved into his arms. The quiet rumble of the waves rolling onto the shore mingled with the distant music that drifted down to the beach on the night breeze.

_"....on this endless ocean, finally lovers know no shame...."_

They moved together in a slow circle, easily falling into the rhythm. It felt to Kristin like they were the only two people on the entire island. She reveled in all the sensations--the distant music mixing with the swish and crash of the waves a few feet away, the breeze teasing the back of her neck, the warm strength of Nathan's hands on her waist. It had been a long time since she'd felt this peaceful.

Nathan, for his part, was hyper-aware of Kristin in his arms. He barely heard the music or cared about who might see them, slow dancing on the sand with the tide rushing up to wash around his shoes and Kristin's bare feet. The moonlight seemed to enhance her beauty, even more so than usual. When the breeze picked up, tugging a lock of her hair out of the clip, he reached up to tuck it behind her ear.

A shiver went down her back when his fingertips brushed her ear. The sudden touch of his hand on her cheek startled her and her eyes met his when he tilted her head up. Impulsively, she leaned up to press her lips to his. She felt him briefly freeze before his embrace tightened and the kiss deepened.

_"....if only for today, I am unafraid...."_

The kiss seemed to last an eternity and a moment before they broke apart, both needing to catch their breath. Suddenly feeling light-headed, Kristin leaned her head against Nathan's chest, ignoring the faint prickle of one of the ribbons on her cheek. Their steps slowed and then suddenly stopped, and they stood motionless, wrapped in each other's arms.

He leaned his chin on top of her head, staring out at the starlit waves. He had long contemplated a closer relationship with Kristin, but something always seemed to get in the way of taking that step. Plus, in the back of his mind was the nagging little voice of guilt that kept trying to ask if it would be betraying Carol's memory. But he knew that Carol wouldn't have wanted him to be alone for the rest of his life. And he couldn't deny that he loved Kristin, even though he hadn't dared to admit it out loud.

The faint but clear sound of the DJ bidding a good night to the crowd and the accompanying cheers broke through his train of thought. He belatedly realized that the dance was over. No doubt others would be coming down to the beach--and even if no one did, Shan would send someone to look for them. "We'd better get back."

Kristin nodded, shivering as the breeze changed direction, blowing off the sea and directly at them. Pausing long enough for her to collect her discarded shoes, they walked back up to the banquet hall arm in arm.


	3. 2 - Deconstruct

**Chapter 2 ~ Deconstruct**

 

"Charlotte Barrett." Ensign Keith Stayton read off the paperwork that was handed to him by the young, blond woman that had just stepped aboard _seaQuest_. He flipped through them one-handed, using the other to enter the necessary information into his console. "Majoring in marine chemistry and completing a thesis on glaciology--so you're a grad student, huh?"

"That's right."

"Hoo, I bet Doc Westphalen is chomping at the bit to get her hands on this one," snickered Seaman Dominic Balducci. "Even if it's just a student."

"I know, right?" Stayton replied.

" _Excuse_ me?? I am not an 'it'." Charlotte's eyes narrowed, and she looked prepared to say more when a new voice shouted over top of hers.

"Balducci! Stayton!" Both men snapped to attention as a scowling Chief Crocker came up behind them.

"Sir!" they chorused.

"Last time I checked, 'it' was used to refer to inanimate objects, _not_ new crewmembers." Crocker came around the side of the table and stared both of the younger men down. "Now you apologize to this young lady immediately and finish processing for her. Understood?"

The two hurriedly finished checking the paperwork and mumbled their apologies after Balducci presented Charlotte with her new ID card.

"Damn ill-mannered pups," Crocker muttered under his breath. He looked to Charlotte, who was slinging her tote bag back over her shoulder. "Right sorry about that, miss. Some of these kids don't use the common sense God gave them. I'm Crocker, chief of security, and you are....?"

"Charlotte Barrett. But you can call me Charli." She offered him her hand, and he shook it.

"Charli, it is, then. Welcome aboard. If you need any help learning your way around, just ask." He gave her a last smile before turning back to supervise the check-ins.

Charli smiled faintly as she took the stairwell up to C deck. Finding her assigned quarters was easy and she was glad to see that she had been given a single occupancy. She valued her privacy, and it would be much easier to maintain that without a roommate in the way.

After unpacking, she sat down at her console, logged herself into the communications system and sent a quick message:

_Cousin,  
Got safely onboard the seaQuest. Met the security chief....a nice guy. Almost too nice, if you know what I mean. We're shipping out sometime tonight. I heard talk that we may be heading north, so if I'm nearby and we dock for a time, I'll let you know._

_C_

 

(*)

 

**_the next morning_ **

 

Charli Barrett stepped through the entrance into sea deck and had her first good look around. It seemed to be a wide open space, with the entrance to the science labs on one side while the other was taken up by a good-sized pool. A thick metal door marked "Moon Pool" and imprinted with various warnings and instructions was on the far wall. Everyone knew about _seaQuest's_ Navy-trained dolphin, and this was obviously his accommodations, along with the tubing she'd seen high up on the corridor walls that gave him shipwide access. As she watched, a sleek gray shape crossed the pool and came up to the edge, where Kristin Westphalen was waiting for him. Charli couldn't hear what she was saying to the animal, since the doctor's words mixed with the electronic-sounding chatter from the vocoder and the natural clicks and whistles.

_"New person. Who is--new person?"_

Charli's eyes widened a fraction when she realized that the dolphin was actually referring to _her_. The doctor looked up and their eyes met.

"Ah, you must be my grad student." Standing up straight, Kristin offered Charli a welcoming smile as she crossed the deck and met her halfway. "Charlotte, isn't it?"

Charli nodded. "Call me Charli, please. It's nice to meet you, Doctor."

"Oh, you can call me Kristin if you wish. We don't really stand on formality around here."

"That may take some getting used to, but all right," Charli smiled.

_"Doctor Kristin...who is new person?"_

"My, you are impatient this morning, Darwin." Kristin's dark eyes glimmered with amusement as she returned to sit on the edge of the pool. She rubbed Darwin's head gently, but his eye was fixed on the human he did not recognize. "Darwin, this is Charli."

Darwin whistled twice and bobbed his head. " _Charli_ ," the vocoder voice responded.

"It's nice to meet you too, Darwin. Can I pet him? I mean, is he okay with strangers doing that?" When Kristin nodded, Charli sat down on the edge and reached out. The dolphin butted the side of his head against the offered hand.

_"Charli rub."_ The electronic voice sounded almost gleeful.

"You'll find out that Darwin doesn't consider anyone friendly a stranger," Kristin replied with a smile.

_"Charli swim?"_

"Maybe later." Charli sat up and got to her feet. "I have lots of work to do."

_"Work."_

Kristin led the way into the lab area. "Your proposal says your thesis is about projecting future Ice Ages and the effects it may have on the ocean's chemistry, as well as overall effects. We're actually spending the next couple months up in the northern Pacific, though there're no plans to go any further north than the Bering Strait. At least, none that I know of. But you still might have the opportunity to study some of the underwater glacial movement." She slid onto a stool in front of her main console, tapping in her passcode with one hand while patting the stool next to her with the other in invitation. "We've a scheduled stop in Anchorage at Elmendorf-Richardson Base, and then we're heading southwest into Indo-Asian waters."

"How long will the ship be docked in Anchorage? I mean, will there be time for me to go ashore at all?" Accepting the invitation, Charli settled onto the offered stool.

"I'm not sure. But when I see Captain Bridger later, I'll ask him."

"Or you can ask him right now." Nathan's cheerful voice behind them startled both women, and they turned to see him stepping into the lab. "I'm sure you'll get the official inventory list from Lieutenant Krieg later, but I wanted to let you know that the supply officers at Pearl made sure to get everything on your part of the list."

"Good to know. Thank you. Oh, this is our new intern, Nathan. Charlotte Barrett, Captain Bridger."

The two shook hands. "So, what did you want to know about our route?"

"Just if we're going to be stopping in Anchorage for awhile, sir," Charli replied. "If we are, then I could plan in a day trip or two for work in the field."

"Unfortunately, we won't have time for that. We're only scheduled to be there about eighteen hours and we'll be leaving sometime around 0200." Leaning over Kristin's shoulder, Nathan tapped a couple commands into her console, bringing up a map of the Pacific that showed _seaQuest's_ current location, as well as the planned route. "But barring any complications, once out of Anchorage, the intention is to sail due west and then turn south along the Russian coast for awhile on the way to Japan. No stops, but there might be time for taking out a _seaCrab_ for a closer look at the subsurface glacial structure."

"That would be great! Thanks, Captain." Charli hopped off the footstool. "I guess I better get started so I'll be ready when that time comes." Once Kristin pointed out her assigned console, she was off like a shot.

"Oh, to be young again and have all that energy," Kristin remarked, watching the girl delve into her work. "I woke up this morning, wishing I could have slept in after last night's chaos."

"And when we were that age, we mocked our elders for taking their time," Nathan added, shaking his head.

Kristin rolled her eyes. "I know! What the hell were we thinking?"

Out of the corner of her eye, Charli watched the pair laugh together. The captain had taken the stool she'd vacated and soon, both of them were bent over the doctor's console. Their voices were low, so she couldn't make out the conversation. From all appearances, they were working. But their body language told an entirely different story.

It seemed she wasn't the only one who recognized that fact. Glancing around while the console uploaded her files, she saw a few different members of the science staff smile and nudge one another while gesturing in their superior's direction. So, it seemed to be common knowledge. _I wonder if they really are together? That would certainly be very interesting if they were...._

 

(*)

_**somewhere in the Aleutian Islands, three weeks later** _

 

Len looked around the room, watching the assistants setting up their equipment. They were talking in low voices, conferring that things were arranged properly as it was placed and secured. The ground briefly rumbled under their feet and everyone stopped, glancing around nervously until it passed.

"That's the tenth one in as many minutes," muttered one of the assistants. He was dark-haired and stocky, and his hands trembled slightly as he pushed a computer tower into place and strapped it to the counter.

"Are we sure this is a good place to be setting up?" another assistant asked. He was younger than the first, whose straight black hair and high cheekbones proclaimed his Aleut heritage. He gestured out the nearby window at the distant volcanic peak on the horizon that jutted into the evening sky. "Just because she hasn't blown in a century doesn't mean she won't at some point while we're here."

Len gave the young man a skeptical look. "I wouldn't worry about it, Kamik. Besides, if there was any imminent danger, your relatives who still live on the other side of the island would have been 'encouraged' to evacuate long ago."

"True," Kamik shrugged. " _But_ volcanoes aren't exactly all that predictable, even with modern observation methods. And neither this one, nor a few native villagers, are that much priority to the UEO scientists or their superiors. They have bigger prey to land."

"Which is why this location is ideal," a third man pointed out. He was short and about the same age as Kamik, with spiky light-brown hair and snapping blue eyes. "No one's gonna be looking for us here....and with my setup, no one will _know_ we're here, either."

"We get it, Hack, you're a self-proclaimed genius." The dark-haired man rolled his eyes.

"You're just jealous, Walt."

"Hardly. You're going to be tied to that machine during this whole thing. I'm the one who gets to have all the fun later on."

"Will you two shut up, please?" Len said tiredly. Walt and Hack had taken a dislike to one another upon first meeting and had spent most of the time sniping at one another when they were in the same room, which wore on everyone else's nerves.

Walt grumbled under his breath. Hack ignored him and, slapping down a keyboard, plugged it into the computer bank, along with a couple other items. Flicking the power button, he watched the monitor light up and the computer cycle through its startup process. Punching in several commands, two other monitors on either side of him lit up as well. "And we're online." Punching in another set of commands, the lights came up to full brightness. "And we have power."

"Just make sure we're masked," Len reminded him. "We don't need any problems."

"You got it, boss."

Leaving Hack to his work and the others to finish setting up, Len wandered through their new home. The facility had originally been an emergency landing field briefly used by pilots during World War II. In the early 2000's, NORPAC had reopened it as an adjunct to a newer base on one of the larger islands, but the constant seismic activity soon made them decide to move the facilities completely to the new base. It had been abandoned ever since, and what was left had been completely ignored for nearly a decade.

The seismic activity and weather had taken its toll on some of the buildings, but the old science lab that had been chosen was stronger than the others. It was quite large and, as a bonus, there was a tunnel that turned out to be connected to an underground area. Or perhaps undersea would be the correct term, Len thought, studying the faded layout map on the wall. Observation chamber, isolation chambers, storage, and lastly, a center area marked with a large blue circle, whose label was so faded with time that it was unreadable.

A quick walk and check of each of the rooms proved that no leaks had developed in the undersea lab. Without the more modern, reinforced insulation and climate control installed, it was chilly and damp, the structure being fully embraced by the icy northern Pacific waters. Shivering, Len ignored the cold and stepped into the last room. Another faint seismic rumble rocked the floor momentarily. When it stilled, the faint but unmistakable sound of water lapping at rock was still audible.

Stepping fully inside the room, Len felt for the light panel. When the lights came up, they were a good deal dimmer than the rest of the lab. They flickered and almost went out, then brightened slightly. When the flickering finally stopped, Len's eyes focused in the dimness. What was first perceived as a darker, circular area took on the shape of a sunken pool in the center of the room. Stepping closer to look down into the water, Len guessed it was about ten feet deep at minimum and seemed to be cut directly from the seafloor. Faded signs on the far walls bore scientific instructions about water sampling and operating pumps to drain and refill the pool, but those went unnoticed. A sudden thought crossed Len's mind, and a cruel smile soon followed as the thought bloomed.

"Perfect."


	4. 3 - Don't Speak

 

**Chapter 3 ~ Don't Speak**

   
 _ **Northern Pacific Ocean, two months later**_

Nathan sighed and wished for the hundredth time that he could start the day over.  It had been one of those days where if something could go wrong, it did.  Minor malfunctions had been cropping up almost from the minute he'd stepped onto the bridge.  As soon as Hitchcock and her crew fixed one problem, they found themselves facing another.  Two bridge officers had failed to report for their shifts, but had tried refusing the medics sent to their quarters to check on them.  When finally confronted by Doctor Levin, they finally admitted that they were severely hung over, the result of having snuck a bottle of real Scotch on board from Pearl Harbor.

This left the bridge crew shorthanded when a distress call reached the _seaQuest_ from a homesteading colony that was under attack.  The attackers were eventually subdued with surprisingly little trouble, and it was discovered why.  The "pirates" were, in fact, a group of half a dozen young men, mostly teenagers, who had decided that attacking the colony was a way to spend a lazy afternoon.  Faced with the might of the UEO's flagship, they had immediately surrendered and tried in vain to promise to make amends.

"The youngest of the lot don't look much older than Lucas, Cap," Crocker said in disgust as he climbed out of the launch.  "They've not only claimed they were doing it because they were bored, but thought it was _funny_ to be terrorizing those people, to boot.  But they don't think it's so funny now, though....they're just beggin' us not to drop 'em off to the MPs once we reach port."

Nathan shook his head in disbelief.  "How much damage was there?"  He directed this question to Hitchcock, who had just stepped off the ladder behind Crocker.

"Thankfully, not too much.  But we may need to stay another day or two to ensure that the structural weakening we found in some of their shelters doesn't worsen."  The chief engineer dropped her tool kit at her feet and paused to stretch out the kinks in her fingers.  "We may have another option, though."  At Nathan's questioning look, Katie went on.  "Lieutenant Moore, Ensign Faraday and Seaman Elmlinger have all volunteered to stay behind, do the work and catch up with us.  All we'd have to do is leave them a Speeder and they could meet us in Anchorage when they're done."

Nathan nodded.  "See to it, Commander."

"Aye, sir."  Getting out her PAL, Katherine punched in Lieutenant Moore's code and scooped up her tool kit, heading out of the launch bay.

Crocker had disappeared back into the launch to deal with the prisoners.  Nathan headed for the Maglev, and keyed on the audio link once he was inside and seated.

"Bridge, there will be a _seaSpeeder_ going out shortly.  Once it clears the docking bay, resume course for Anchorage."

"Aye, sir."

Switching the link off, Nathan slumped back into the Maglev's cushions, closing his eyes and silently willing away the headache that was beginning to build.  _Now let's hope nothing else goes wrong today._

 (*)

Down on sea deck, it was business as usual, despite the earlier encounter with the would-be pirates.  Kristin and Charli had spent the entire day immersed in the latter's upcoming plans for thesis work.

"I want to see how much calving has happened in the last year on the Makar Glacier."  Charli keyed up a series of photos on her console.  "This is from the trip to Siberia last year and my group was only there for two weeks.  We spent four to five days at each site, but none of the other glaciers showed nearly this much activity.  And we only got to see above water, so I'm doubly curious to see what's beneath the surface."

"I'd start with drawing water samples at various depths and running chemical analysis," Kristin suggested.  "If you're thinking what I think you're thinking, this pattern of calving and the resulting melt could begin to cause desalinization down the line."

The blonde nodded.  "Plus, whatever else may be contained inside the ice could pose any number of potential threats to the ocean's chemistry."

"It is a bit of a pity we're not in Anchorage that long.  If we were, you'd be able to take those day trips you were asking about on your first day...."  They were both distracted by a shriek from the far side of the deck.  A young engineer was staring into the moon pool in horror, her shaking hand pointing down into the water.

Kristin rose to her feet.  "What in the...."

"There's blood in the water!"

Without even stopping to think, Kristin ran straight for the moon pool's edge.  She leaped over the barrier, plunging into the water.  "Get me the dolphin medkit!" she hollered over her shoulder once she surfaced.

She swam out into the center of the moon pool, meeting Darwin halfway.  He was moving sluggishly and making keening sounds of distress.  Talking softly to him, she encouraged him to swim over to the far side where several other crewmembers were prepping the dolphin stretcher.  A second splash got her attention and she looked up to see Charli had jumped in as well, medkit in hand.  Charli handed the medkit over to Kristin the moment she was within arm's reach, then motioned to Darwin in a "come here" gesture.  "C'mon, Darwin.  Come to the stretcher."

Darwin ignored the young intern entirely, sticking by Kristin's side.  He refused to even swim towards the stretcher until she nudged him in that direction and, even then, he floated into its confines reluctantly.  He was strangely quiet, only reacting when Kristin moved out of his sight range.  No amount of rubbing or gentle words from Doctor Levin or the other medics soothed him; he would not be dissuaded, his whistling and keening rising in volume each time he lost sight of Kristin. 

"Apparently, he wants no one else today."  Kristin handed the open medkit over to Joshua after her third failed attempt at an examination.  She rubbed a gentle hand along the dolphin's snout and he grew quiet once more.

Darwin's only physical injury turned out to be a small gash on his tail.  With some coaxing from Kristin, he held still long enough for Joshua to treat and bandage it.  A little more persuasion via vocoder made the reason for his injury clear:  he'd narrowly escaped the clutches of a shark.  A nearby pod of other dolphins in the area had responded to his distress whistles and drove the shark back long enough for him to make his way back to the ship.

"Keep an eye on him, Joshua.  I want him closely observed for the next twelve hours," Kristin ordered, hoisting herself out of the pool.  She removed her shoes, pouring the water out, then stripped off her lab coat and wrung it out as well.  Charli waded over and Kristin offered her a hand up.  "We've got spare jumpsuits kept in storage for moments like this.  It'll do you for the rest of the day."

Charli nodded, taking two towels from the nearby rack.  "Does this happen often?"  She handed one over to Kristin, kicking off her shoes at the same time.

"Jumping in fully clothed?  Not often, but it can happen.  Some of my staff keep a change of clothes at their workstations just in case."

After a brief stop in the main storage room, both of them went into unused rooms in medbay to change.  The noise from sea deck could faintly be heard echoing through the adjoining doors.  Used to it, Kristin mentally tuned it out.  Therefore, she was a little surprised by the air of tension she felt when she and Charli stepped down out of medbay.  The reason soon became clear when she spotted Nathan and Lucas in a quiet, heated conversation.  When Nathan turned suddenly and left Lucas standing there in obvious mid-sentence, the boy stared after him for a moment and then shrugged to himself.

_I wonder what that was all about._ Lucas was already heading for the door, but having caught sight of her, detoured her way.

"I wouldn't go over there if I were you, Doc."  At the raised eyebrow he got in response, Lucas went on, "He's really mad that no one called him to let him know what happened to Darwin."

"Better I talk to him now.  If I look like I'm avoiding the issue, it'll just make things worse."  Kristin sighed, not looking forward to the upcoming confrontation. 

"Well, don't say I didn't warn you."  With that parting shot, Lucas left.

"Thank you for your help and quick thinking earlier, Charli."  She patted the girl on the shoulder.  Charli nodded and returned to her workstation, using one hand to keep wringing her braid out for several minutes.  Finally, she gave up and draped the towel around her shoulders.

Meanwhile, Kristin headed back down the steps to the moon pool.  Nathan was sitting on the pool's edge talking quietly to Darwin.  She intended to wait until they were done, but Darwin whistled when he spotted her, therefore revealing her presence.  She could see his anger in the set of his shoulders and in the way he avoided looking at her as he gave Darwin's melon a final rub.

"No more thumping your tail on the surface now," Nathan lectured, getting to his feet.  "You're going to undo all of Doctor Levin's first-aid."

"Oh, I'm sure Joshua's bandaging will hold up just fine."  They watched the dolphin sink beneath the surface of the water and begin a slow circle around the pool.  The silence stretched on for a long moment before she finally broke it.

"Why do I have the feeling you're angry with me?"

"You're damn right I am.  I have to find out from _Lucas_ that Darwin had a narrow escape from a shark??  I should have been called down here the moment you noticed blood in the water!"

"I'm sorry, I thought one of the others had already informed you.  As for myself, I was a little preoccupied at the time."  His forbidding look didn't fade and it began to annoy her.  "Do I need to remind you that tending to the patient is the first priority?"

"Do I need to remind _you_ that while Darwin may be a member of this crew, he's still _my_ dolphin?"

Kristin folded her arms.  "Your bond with him aside, Nathan, dolphins do not _belong_ to anyone," she said pointedly.

"The fact remains that the only reason he is even on this boat in the first place is because I am.  That means wherever I go, he goes."

"That _still_ doesn't make him your property...."

_"Bridge to the captain."_

Nathan tapped the nearby audio link to switch it on.  "Yes?" he snapped.

_"You have a call from Captain Tillman at Elmendorf-Richardson.  It's been rerouted to the ward room."_

"On my way."  He tapped the audio link again to turn it off and met Kristin's glare with one of his own.  "We'll finish this discussion later, Doctor.  But in the future, I need to know what's going on at all times and I'd appreciate it if you didn't question my authority."

"Fine, _Captain_."  She couldn't believe he was being so unreasonable.

Neither of them noticed Charli surreptitiously watching the entire scene.  By the time Kristin came back up the steps into the lab and the captain had departed sea deck, Charli was back at work.  But a faint smirk played across her face for the rest of the afternoon.


	5. 4 - Tacita Ultio

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: My information on the Aleut language, mythology and art used in this chapter was pulled from a few different sources. They include Native-Languages.org, Omniglot.com, the Kate Shugak novels written by bestselling author (and Alaskan native) Dana Stabenow, and various sources linked from Wikipedia's articles on the Aleutian people and their culture. The mask described in detail is called "Raven Stealing the Sun" and was done by artist Jerry Laktonen. You can google his name to see more of his beautiful creations.

 

**Chapter 4 ~ Tacita Ultio**

_Anchorage, Alaska_

 

"Are you sure you don't mind staying here all by yourself?" 

Charli smiled in mild amusement.  It was the fourth time Kristin had asked her that same question that morning.  Most of the crew were taking what little time there was for a day of shore leave.  "Honest, Doctor, I'll be fine.  I really need to work on my thesis anyway." 

"Very well, then."  Kristin shut down her console.  "Then I suppose I'll see you tomorrow.  Oh, Darwin will want to go out to eat in about two hours.  And since we're docked, no need to pressurize the moon pool, either.  When he comes back in, check his tail if he'll let you, just to make sure the bandages have stayed in place.  I know he's been rather contrary of late."  She cast a fond look in the direction of the moon pool. "If there are any problems, just contact the bridge and they'll get ahold of Doctor Levin or myself." 

Charli waved good-bye and watched the doctor head out the door.  She counted five minutes while listening to the odd sound of near silence that encompassed sea deck before opening a communication link on her console and typing in a brief message: 

_Cuz,_

_I think I will have time for lunch, after all.  I'll meet you in about three hours at that café you mentioned.  But don't forget, I have to return to the ship no later than 1700._

_C_

 

(*)

  

"Are you sure you don't wish to go ashore, sir?"  Jonathan Ford studied the captain's profile, noticing the tension in his posture.  He had not missed his superior officer's dark disposition of the past few days.  He figured it had to do with Darwin's recent injury, but wondered if something more was going on, as he knew that the dolphin was healing well.

Nathan shook his head.  "I'm not in the mood right now.  I can wait until we get to Japan.  Go enjoy yourself, Jonathan."

After his first officer had departed, Nathan sighed, staring at the WSKR view onscreen without really seeing it.  He hadn't spoken to Kristin in three days.  The only times they'd seen one another had been in passing; she had either avoided his gaze or nodded politely.  He sensed she was still annoyed with him.  In hindsight, he didn't blame her.  She had been right about the patient being first priority, and he had completely ignored that. 

Their argument had spoiled his initial plans to ask her to dinner.  He had even had a location in mind: a small, family-run Italian place that overlooked Prince William Sound.  The late sunsets always painted the glaciers with a myriad of colors and there was usually a chance of seeing otters or sea lions on the rocks below. 

He idly wondered if she had intended on taking any shore leave.  He didn't remember her mentioning it, so hopefully, she was still onboard.  It wouldn't be what he'd originally had in mind, but if she accepted his apology, at least they could spend some time together.  Opening the audio link, he entered the code to sea deck.

 " _Sea Deck, this is Barrett."_

"Miss Barrett, is Doctor Westphalen there?" he asked, doing his best to hide his disappointment.

_"I'm sorry, Captain Bridger, but she went topside about a half hour ago.  Was it urgent?  I could try paging her PAL."_

 "No, that's all right.  Thank you."  Closing the link, he sighed again, this time in discontent.  He would have to wait until tomorrow, it seemed.

  

(*)

  

Despite spending all morning and most of the afternoon walking about Anchorage, Kristin couldn't shake off her glum mood.  She hadn't talked to Nathan since their argument the day of Darwin's incident.  Both of them had been no more busy than usual, but every time there was a free moment, she found herself putting it off, not willing to get into another argument should he still be angry with her. 

Hopefully, the upcoming weeks while they headed towards Japan would prove to be a welcome distraction.  Charli was sketching out a timeframe to do her glacial studies and had already told Kristin she was welcome to join her.  Arrangements were already in place for Lieutenant Krieg to drive a _seaCrab_ and be her escort.  The girl was truly a delight to have aboard _seaQuest_.  She got along well with everyone she interacted with, though there were no signs of forming any sort of close bonds with anyone, which was a bit puzzling.  Normally, on long tours, people made friends quickly so they had companionship for the months ahead. 

Shrugging the thought away, she paused before the display window of a shop that was showcasing various forms of Aleut art.  The delicately woven baskets were first to catch her eye, but the masks were what drew her inside the shop.  She circled the shop's interior, studying each of them, but found herself returning to one that was part of a larger display in the shop's central area.  It was round and painted mostly black, with black feathers attached around the edges.  The red paint used to create the mask's face seemed to be glaring at her and gave her a momentary chill down her back. 

" _Aang_ , anything I can help you find?"  The young Aleut girl who had been behind the counter stepped out onto the floor.  Her name tag read "Katya". 

Kristin shook her head.  "Not in particular.  I came in for a closer look at your masks.  They're quite exquisite." 

Katya nodded.  "My uncle's work.  He has been creating masks for almost forty years now.  Each one is inspired by ancestral tales.  Does any one in particular catch your eye?" 

"They're all beautiful, but this one...."  Kristin brushed her fingertips over the round mask's black feathers.  "It is just as beautiful, but at the same time, almost....sinister." 

"That is _Qanglaagix_.  Raven, the trickster," the girl explained.  "But he was not evil.  He always ended up helping the people; he simply caused a lot of trouble in the process."  A faint smile curved her lips. 

Kristin found herself smiling as well.  "Sounds like Lucas."  At Katya's questioning look, she added, "Lucas is one of my research assistants on the ship I work on." 

"You are a UEO officer?  For some reason, you look familiar." 

"Oh, no, I'm not in the military.  I'm a doctor on a UEO ship, though." 

Katya's eyes widened.  "That is why you look familiar!  You are the _seaQuest's_ doctor.  I saw the stories about your award on the news.  It must be very exciting to sail all around the world." 

Kristin smiled at the girl's exuberance.  "It can be, but it's not all excitement and new discoveries." 

"I suppose that is true.  Much work must be done before the rewards of the harvest can be reaped."  Katya waved a hand.  "But you are not here to listen to me chatter like a chickadee, obviously.  So if there is anything I can help you find or that you wish to have a closer look at, let me know." 

"Well, my daughter's birthday is coming up in a couple months...."  Kristin's gaze fell on another display of carved wooden figurines inside a glass cabinet.  One immediately caught her eye, that of a dolphin jumping from a wave. 

Katya's gaze followed hers.  "Some of these are also my uncle's work.  His favorite animals to carve are the otter and the dolphin." 

"The dolphin is actually the one I was looking at."  Before Kristin could even ask, Katya had ducked behind the counter and opened up the case, removing the small wooden dolphin.  She handed it to Kristin, who turned it over slowly in her hands, admiring the details in the craftsmanship.  "Such lovely work.  I think I'll take this one for Cynthia." 

The faint jangle form the door made Katya look up.  " _Aang,_ be with you in a moment."  After ringing up the transaction, she wrapped the carved dolphin carefully in protective paper, then secured it in a box.  "Here you are.  I hope your daughter likes it." 

Kristin took the box and gave Katya a final smile.  "Oh, I'm sure she will.  Thank you." 

"You are welcome.  It was nice to meet you." 

"The same.  Have a good afternoon, Katya." 

"And you, Doctor.  _Ukudigada_."  

"Excuse me."  Kristin was almost to the door when the words got her attention.  She turned to face a dark-haired man about her age.  His expression was one of worry.  "Did I hear the shop clerk say you're a doctor?" 

"Yes, I am." 

The man sighed in relief.  "Oh, thank God.  Could I get your help with my friend?  We just got into town and, while I was parking the car, he started complaining of chest pain.  I tried to ask him how bad it was, but he passed out." 

"And you've called for assistance?"  Kristin followed the man as he led the way outside and towards a light-colored vehicle parked nearby. 

"I have, but they seem to be taking a really long time.  And my friend--he has a family history and all...."  The man gestured helplessly and opened the car door, stepping back to allow her access. 

"Well, I can look him over and anything I can determine, I'll inform the paramedics when they arrive."  Kristin peered inside the car.  A young Aleut man sat slumped over in the seat.  His face was unnaturally pale and he was breathing shallowly.  The sight made her climb in next to him without thinking.  She pressed two fingers to his neck and barely had time to feel the steady beat against her fingertips before she was roughly grabbed from behind.  A wet cloth was pressed to her face.  Recognizing the nauseatingly sweet scent, she tried in vain to jerk her head away from it.  But the little she had already inhaled was enough to send her spiraling down into unconsciousness.

  

(*) 

 

The launch bay was a hubbub of activity that evening, with many of the crew returning from their day of shore leave.  Charli climbed up the ladder and quickly descended the steps to the ID scanner, ignoring the chaos around her.  Unshouldering her backpack, she dug out her ID card and passed it under the scanner.  The scanner chirped in response and she returned the card to its place.  Turning to leave the launch bay, she suddenly paused with a frown.  Reaching back into the pocket she'd placed the ID card into, she removed it again and looked more closely at it; then shook her head in self-deprecation and rifled through the pocket again. 

"Hey, Charli."  

The greeting made her jump.  She forced herself to take a deep breath before she turned to face a member of the science team.  

Ensign Alisha Williams stood behind her, her own ID card in hand.  "You okay?" 

Charli swiped the newfound card under the scanner and waited for the confirming chirp.  "Hey, Alisha.  Nothing's wrong, but I just tried to use my university ID to check myself back onboard."  _She didn't see it...did she?  No, she couldn't have._

Williams smiled and swiped her ID before putting it back in the pocket of her jeans.  "Yeah, I don't think that will work." 

_Okay, she didn't.  That's a relief._ "Oh, the computer told me so in no uncertain terms."  The two young women laughed together as they left the launch bay.

  

(*)

  

As _seaQuest_ crossed from the Cook Inlet into open water at 0210 the next morning, a small craft was docking on a distant island in the Aleutians.  Were anyone able to see through the cloak of fog blanketing the island, they would have noticed two figures climb out of the craft supporting a third, and a fourth figure come out of a nearby building to meet them. 

"Took you long enough." 

"C'mon, Len, cut us some slack.  The currents around Unimak were a bitch to navigate." 

"I'm not interested in your little problems.  Did anyone follow you?" 

"If they had, would we be here right now??  No, we'd be leading them on a wild goose chase." 

" _Don't_ get smart with me.  I need to ensure that no one finds out we're here, or that we have _her_ until I'm ready for them to know." 

"They won't.  The hand-off was taken care of.  Long as it made it to the receiving end, we're good." 

"Her communication device?" 

"Tossed off the docks before we left.  Far as anyone will know, she's still in Anchorage." 

"Perfect."

 


	6. 5 - That Certain Fury

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Thanks goes to a few people on this chapter:  
> \-- Vici for her help and input on O'Neill's cameo.  
> \-- Giry for her help with Noyce's cameo.  
> \-- Beta goddess Darkin for her help with the chapter's end and teaching me about perspective changes. :)  
> \-- And last but certainly not least, beta goddess Cam for her extensive help with many elements of dialogue.

* * *

**Chapter 5 ~ That Certain Fury  
**

**_Bering Sea_ **

  
 

It was quiet on the bridge of the _seaQuest_.  Jonathan paced a slow circle past each station, occasionally glancing over a crewmember's shoulder.  They had been making good time since they'd left Anchorage in the wee hours of the morning; they were nearly past the Aleutians.  Pausing in front of the navigation table, he noticed that they were also about two hours from the Russian Confederation's border.

Hearing the com link chirp behind him, he returned to his chair and keyed the audio link on.  "Bridge, this is Ford."

_"Commander, Doctor Levin here.  Is Doctor Westphalen up there, by any chance?"  
_

Surprised by the question and the urgency in Levin's tone, it took the first officer a moment to respond.  "No, Mr. Levin.  At least I haven't seen her."  Jonathan raised his voice so the whole bridge crew could hear him.  "Anyone seen Doctor Westphalen this morning?"  Quizzical looks and a chorus of negatives was the answer.  "Check her quarters, Mr. Levin, and keep asking around."

While he waited to hear back from Levin, Jonathan pulled up the security logs from the day before.  He noticed that it showed Kristin having checked back onboard at 1709 hours.  Curious, he ran a quick diagnostic on the log file to ensure it had not somehow glitched or been tampered with.  When the diagnostic came back clean, he took a closer look at it, noticing that Lieutenant Phillips had checked in before her, with Charli Barrett and Ensign Williams having been right behind her.  That meant at least one of them had to have seen her....

The chirp of the audio link distracted him and he tapped it on again without even looking at it.  "Bridge."

_"Commander, may I speak with you, please?"_

"Certainly, Doctor.  Meet me in the ward room."  Jonathan glanced behind him to Katie.  "You have the bridge."  Katie nodded in response and stepped down from her station.

A few minutes later, Jonathan met Joshua Levin outside the Maglev on deck B.  The look on the young doctor's face gave him his answer, but he gestured for him to step into the ward room.

"Every corner of the labs, medbay and sea deck has been checked.  And she wasn't in her quarters, Commander.  It looks like her bed hasn't been slept in either."

"Then it's time we tell the captain."  Jonathan stepped back out into the corridor, Joshua following, and tapped on the door of the captain's quarters.  When they were told to enter, they found Nathan perusing a stack of paperwork.  He looked up and nodded in greeting.

"Commander, Doctor Levin.  What can I do for you?"

"Sir, Doctor Westphalen seems to be...."  Joshua hesitated.  "...missing."

Nathan took off his glasses and stared at the younger man in disbelief.  "What do you mean 'missing'?"

Joshua repeated to the captain everything he had told the first officer, ending with, "I've kept it as quiet as I can, sir, but I'm not the only one who's noticed that she didn't show up this morning."

"We couldn't have left port this morning without all crew accounted for.  How could this be possible?"

Jonathan shook his head.  "And that's the odd thing, sir.  I double-checked the logs and the computer shows that she checked back in at 1709 yesterday evening."

"When was the last time you saw her, Mr. Levin?"

"Yesterday morning.  We bumped into each other in the launch bay on my way out to take shore leave.  That was about 0930."

Nathan tapped his audio link on.  "Chief Crocker, please report to my quarters."

_"On my way."_

While waiting for Crocker's arrival, Nathan got out his PAL and keyed in Kristin's code.  Silence was the only answer and he frowned.  It wasn't like her not to answer her PAL, much less not show up for her shift at all.

Crocker's entrance disrupted his train of thought.  "What did you need, Cap?"

Nathan closed his PAL with a sigh.  "We have a situation, Chief.  Doctor Westphalen is apparently missing.  The log shows she came back onboard, yet she hasn't been seen since yesterday morning."

"Checked her quarters?"  At the nods he received, he added, "Anything out of place in them?"

"Not that I could tell," Joshua replied.  "But I've only been to her quarters once before, so I couldn't say for sure."

"Hmm, I could disguise the search as a surprise inspection.  That way, it gets done without letting the entire crew know what's really going on.  We'll also make sure that the doc is the only one we can't account for."  The security chief looked to Ford.  "What time's the log say she got back on the boat?"

"1709 yesterday.  Phillips checked in about five minutes before her.  And after her, it was Barrett at 1711 and Williams right behind her."

"Talk to all of them.  Also talk to any others who saw her leave that morning besides you, Doctor," Nathan added.  "We have to establish a timeline."

"You got it, Cap."  Crocker left first, followed by Joshua.

"Sir, do you want me to order helm to turn around and take us back to Anchorage?"

Nathan shook his head.  "Not yet, Commander.  Better to keep this quiet for now."  _Where could she be?_

 

(*)

 

_"Attention, all hands, we are running a surprise inspection.  Please remain where you are until further notice.  Thank you."_

Lucas looked up from his monitor at the sound of Ford's announcement.  "What the heck?" he mumbled.

_"What's going on, Lucas?"_

Lucas turned back to face the monitor with a shrug.  "Some sort of inspection.  And since they said stay where you are until further notice, I guess that means you're stuck with me," he finished with a grin.

On the other end of the vid link, Shannon Noyce laughed.  _"I could think of worse places to be."_

 

Down on sea deck, the science team looked up in curious surprise at the announcement as well.  A few minutes later, a four-man team from security led by Chief Shan stepped in.

"Everyone can remain at their workstations," Shan announced.  "We only need you to have your ID cards ready, please."  He gestured to Ensign Crenshaw, who was holding a portable ID scanner.

Tapping in her passcode to save her work, Charli took her ID card out of her workstation drawer.  She watched the security officer circle the room with wary eyes.  A pat on the arm distracted her and she realized that Alisha Williams was by her side.

"It can be a little unnerving the first time, I know," Alisha said, pushing her glasses up with the back of her hand.  "But it's nothing to worry about unless you hear a call for battle stations.  The military half of the crew has to do these exercises now and then."

"But maybe there's something else going on?" Charli asked, keeping her voice low.  "I heard one of the nurses saying Doctor Levin seemed upset.  Something about he needs to talk to Doctor Westphalen and can't find her."

"Well, she's around, I'm sure," the dark-haired ensign shrugged.  Seeing Crenshaw headed their way, she fished her ID out of her jumpsuit pocket and held it out for him.

Crenshaw ran the scanner wand over Alisha's ID, waited for the confirming chirp, and did the same with Charli's.  He glanced between it and a printed page he held in his other hand each time, then nodded to himself.  "That's everyone, sir," he said to Shan, who was standing nearby.

Shan flipped open his PAL and punched in a code.  "Chief, sea deck is secure."

_"Proceed to D deck, then."_

"Aye."  Shan pocketed his PAL.  "Thank you all for cooperating."  He led the security team out.

"See?  Nothing to worry about."  Alisha patted Charli's arm again, then got up from the stool she'd been sitting on.  "And now back to the grind.  Inventory, yay," she added in a fake cheery voice.  "I hope we get to one of your glaciers soon.  At least testing water samples could prove to be a _little_ more exciting."

Charli smiled slightly and turned back to her console.  "Me, too."

 

(*)

 

Nathan had tried to return to his paperwork while waiting for the results of the search, but could not find his focus and eventually found himself in the ward room, pacing the length of the room.  How could the log show that Kristin had returned from shore leave, yet no one had seen her since the day before?  More importantly, why wasn't she answering her PAL?

He was circling his desk for the tenth time when he heard footsteps in the corridor.  Abandoning any pretense of patience, he met Crocker's gaze the minute Crocker entered.  "Well?"

"We've gone stem to stern, Cap," Crocker replied.  "Only one unaccounted for is Doc Westphalen; everyone else is right where they should be."

"How is this possible?" Nathan demanded, more to himself than Crocker.  "And if she's not onboard, why does the log say she is?"  A quick tap on the door preceded William Shan's entrance.

"After we completed the search, I took the liberty of stopping by the doctor's quarters," the assistant security chief began.  "As Doctor Levin stated, her bed appears untouched.  The only things I noticed that might be considered out of place were half a cup of tea and an open book on her desk.  Her personal console shows her last activity ending at 2245 hours two days ago."

Shan's report only added to Nathan's frustration.  Nothing was adding up.  "We need to run the logs through another diagnostic.  Make sure there are no errors or evidence of tampering.  Then interview anyone who checked back in around the time the log has her returning within a ten minute window."

_"Captain to the bridge."_

_Now what?_   "On my way."

"Lieutenant Phillips is being interviewed now, sir."  Shan stepped out the hatch first, since he was closest to it.  "I'll be retrieving Ensign Williams and Miss Barrett shortly."

"Thank you, Shan."  Shan nodded and headed down the corridor as the two senior officers stepped into the waiting Maglev.

 

(*)

 

Nathan hurried up the steps to the bridge's main floor.  "Status."

"We're receiving an odd transmission, Captain."  Tim O'Neill was the first to speak up. 

"Origin?"

"Unknown.  And that's not the only odd thing about it."  The communications officer was busily entering commands on his console and only looked up again when Nathan came to look over his shoulder.  "The transmission has a refracted pattern disbursement.  Whoever's sending it has a masking program in place that not only disguises the originating source, it's also bouncing it across several different communication networks.  Now, the good thing is, the disbursement is occurring within a limited radius, but it's still going to take me some time to pinpoint it."

"Go ahead and put it through, but keep at it." 

The main screen lit up briefly with static and then slowly focused.  The room that appeared was shadowed, the only source of light seeming to come from the monitor itself as it cast a bluish glow over the face of the brunette staring back at them.  Her pale blue eyes flickered quickly over each crewmember before finally settling on Nathan.  When their gazes met, hers narrowed slightly before she spoke.

 _"Captain Bridger.  So_ nice _to finally make your acquaintance."_

"It would seem you have me at a disadvantage," Nathan replied evenly, schooling his expression to remain calm, even while his sixth sense was ringing alarms in the back of his mind.  "And you are?"

_"You may call me Len."_

He didn't recognize her, yet there was something about her bearing that seemed eerily familiar and sent an unwelcome chill down his spine.  "And what is this regarding?"

 _"I have something of importance that belongs to you.  Or should I say....some_ one _."_

The words seemed to hang in the air, adding to the tension on the bridge.  Apprehension curled in his gut; he knew without a doubt that this woman was behind Kristin's disappearance.  "How do I know that what you say is true?"

Len made a gesture over her shoulder to an unseen person.  _"Show him."_

The camera's view went momentarily black and then refocused, revealing an unmoving figure bound to a chair.  Even in the dim lighting, there was no mistaking the flash of auburn hair and the familiar curve of her face and, for an instant, Nathan's heart stopped.  "What the hell have you done to her??"

 _"Nothing--yet."_   The camera's view had returned to Len.  A cold smile formed.  _"She's merely sleeping off a little chloroform."_

"Mr. O'Neill...."

"Trace initiating at fifty percent..."  Tim was keying in one command after another so fast, his hands were nearly a blur.  He ignored the first error message that appeared on his screen, and the second.  It was immediately followed by a third error, stating that the back tracing of the signal had failed.  Glaring at his monitor, he grumbled under his breath.  "Restarting trace--this may take a few minutes."

 _"Try all you want, Lieutenant O'Neill, but you're just wasting your time.  You see, one of my people is a hacker who's just as good--probably better--than you or the Wolenczak brat."_   Len smirked at the dark looks she received in return.  _"I'm sure you can connect the dots.  And as for what I will require in order for the good doctor to return to you in one piece, I have yet to decide.  It's not something that should be decided in haste, after all._ _I'll be in touch."_   She gestured over her shoulder again and static enveloped her image for a brief moment before the "transmission terminated" message replaced it.

The bridge crew was left staring in silent disbelief at the now-blank screen.  It was a trilling buzz from communications and Tim's frustrated growl that finally broke the silence.

Swearing under his breath, Tim yanked his headset off and rubbed his ear, glaring at the readout on his console.  "The second trace fell through.  I'm going to have to try a different method.  Sorry, Captain."

Nathan didn't even hear the apology; he was still staring at the main screen, the image of Kristin slumped over in that chair burned into his mind.  Despite the dimness, he hadn't missed the bruising on her face. 

"Cap?"

Nathan blinked and turned to look at Crocker.  Seeing the concern in his old friend's eyes was enough to shake him out of his shocked daze, though he still felt numb inside.  He glanced in Jonathan's direction.  "Get us back to Anchorage."  Without waiting for a reply, he turned and left the bridge.

"Helm, reverse course," Jonathan ordered automatically.  He turned and watched the captain's retreating back until the closing clam doors blocked his view.  The return trip would take almost eighteen hours, plus it was quite unlikely that her captors were even still in the Anchorage area; they would know that _seaQuest_ would return to port the moment they discovered one of their number missing.  He could only hope that they would find the doctor sooner rather than later.

Nathan found himself pacing the ward room without even realizing he had returned there.  He knew it would take until tomorrow, even at top speed, to reach Anchorage again.  And from there, where?  Wherever Len was keeping Kristin, it wouldn't be in the city because she would know that would be the first place they'd look.  Until O'Neill could crack her hacker's code, there was no way to know in which direction to begin the search.

 _This is my fault._   He didn't know why that thought suddenly came to mind, but he knew deep down it was the truth.

 

(*)

 

"...wake her up.  She's been faking it long enough."

The unfamiliar feminine voice sounded miles away.  Kristin struggled to open her eyes, fighting a fatigue she hadn't felt since her university days.  As soon as she opened her eyes completely, she quickly closed them again because the blurring of her vision only exacerbated the dull, pounding ache in her temples.  She tried to lift a hand to rub her eyes and realized that she couldn't.

A sudden blow made the dull ache bloom into a piercing agony.  She bit back a moan and, this time, forced herself to open her eyes and combat the spinning she now recognized as a light dizziness spell.  Blinking rapidly eventually brought the room into focus around her.  The lighting was dim, but she could make out what looked like a bank of computers against the far wall.  Some of the equipment looked almost ancient, which was further puzzling.  What was this place?  More importantly, _where_ was it?

She tried again to move her hands and, when she couldn't, discovered that she was bound to the chair she sat in.  A shudder of fear crept down her spine.  She searched her memory in hopes of recalling how she ended up here, but came up blank.  The lack of recollection made her fear increase.  She had to force herself to take a couple deep breaths and closed her eyes again, willing herself to remain calm.  Panicking would only make things worse.

The tap-tap-tick sound of computer keys caught her attention.  A man sat in front of the computer setup, but his back was to her and he was busily tapping away at his keyboard.  She was about to get his attention and demand an explanation when another person stepped into her line of sight.  Looking up, she found herself face to face with the dark-haired man she'd met in Katya's shop and recognizing him brought the memory back with vivid clarity.

"You...."  She glared at his smirk.  "What happened to the man who was having the heart attack?  Have you taken him hostage too, or did you murder him?"

"I assure you, Doctor Westphalen, I'm unharmed."  Kristin turned in the direction of the new voice, and found the younger man leaning casually against a nearby wall.  "A mere bit of acting on my part to garner your attention and sympathy."

Ignoring him, she turned back to the first man.  "Well, what is it you want?" she demanded.  "Given your unethical methods thus far, I'm not inclined to believe your reasons are benign."

"Quite a mouthy little bitch, aren't you?" was the sneered response.  He advanced on her, leaning in closer.  "How about I teach you a little lesson in resp--"  His threat was cut off when Kristin kicked him hard in the shin.

The man howled, leaping back and almost falling down.  He kept his balance, but was half hunched over, holding the leg that had been kicked.  "You're going to regret that!"  A laugh cut off his tirade and he whipped around in the direction of it in a hobbled stumble.  "What the hell are you laughing at??" he demanded.

"Your own stupidity, Walt."  Kristin realized it was the same voice that she had first heard when coming to.  Its owner was a brunette woman with her hair pulled back in a loose ponytail.  Her eyes were a light color and, when her gaze settled on Kristin, reflected pure malice.

A new, stronger fear wrapped Kristin in its hold.  Meeting the other woman's stare was like being under the spell of a cobra ready to strike; being the first to look away could be a major mistake.  She still had no idea what was going on, but instinctively knew that this woman was the one in charge of the situation she'd found herself in.

The brunette turned back to the man--Walt--with a smirk.  "You're the one who didn't tie her feet."

"How was I supposed to know she'd try to break my leg?" Walt growled.

"That's your problem; you don't _think_.  But I suggest you start using your brain a little more often.  I will _not_ have my plans screwed up by your incompetence."  Ignoring the glower she received in return, she turned back to Kristin.  "Now, Doctor, to answer your question...you're here as leverage.  Once I have what I require from Captain Bridger, I'll consider letting you return to _seaQuest_."

"And by 'consider', you mean not at all," Kristin replied skeptically.

The younger woman suddenly smiled; a cold, calculated smile.  "You could be a little more gracious.  At least you're still breathing."

 _For now._   "I don't suppose you're going to introduce yourself."

"You may call me Len."  She turned to Walt, who had straightened up and was glowering at Kristin.  "You and Kamik take her below until I decide what to do with her.  And keep your hands to yourself, Walt.  Maybe next time you'll _think._ "

Walt's grip on her arm was going to leave bruises, she knew.  After untying her from the chair, he almost dragged both her and the younger man down the tunnel, pausing only long enough before a closed door to tap in a quick code on the access panel.  The door slid silently open, revealing that the tunnel continued on a downward slope.  It was much dimmer here than above, and Kristin could feel the damp chill in the air the moment they crossed the threshold.  It felt like being on sea deck, except for the temperature.  Catching a momentary glimpse of what appeared to be a layout map on the wall confirmed her suspicion that, wherever this place was, this part of the structure was quite likely built underwater. 

After several steps, the corridor leveled off and, up ahead, branched off in three different directions.  It was hard to see much of anything due to the low light levels; and trying to concentrate on any details only made her head ache more fiercely.  They paused again and she heard a metallic creaking sound before they pushed her through another doorway.  It took her a moment to realize that they had finally released their hold on her.

The door slammed shut behind her and she winced at the echoing throb in her skull.  Closing her eyes helped, since it also shut out the light.  Having her hands free helped even more and, reopening her eyes, she shielded them for a few minutes until they adjusted to the light levels.  A look around the room made her recognize it for what it was: an old-fashioned isolation chamber, usually used for experiments requiring strict containment.  Except for the cot against the far wall, it was completely empty, no doubt having been stripped before the facility was abandoned.

The floor shook beneath her and she gasped, startled, but the mild tremor was over as quickly as it had begun.  Breathing a faint sigh of relief, Kristin gave herself a quick once-over.  Nothing felt broken, though she suspected bruises were developing in a few different places.  And, of course, there was the lingering headache.  That was likely to disappear completely if she could manage to get any sleep.  Crossing over to the cot, she settled down onto it and shivered.  This end of the room felt colder and she contemplated getting up and moving the cot, but fatigue was beginning to settle in.  At least she had dressed warmly when she'd left for shore leave; it would help keep the possibility of hypothermia at bay for the time being.

Laying down, she curled one arm under her head for support and closed her eyes with a sigh.  Nathan and the crew had surely noticed her absence by now.  She could only hope it wouldn't take them long to find her.

 

(*)

 

 _"And she didn't tell you what she wanted?"_   On the other end of the vid link, Bill Noyce was watching Nathan pace the ward room and trying to absorb the shocking news.

"She said she 'had yet to decide'.  Whatever _that_ means."  Nathan raked a hand through his hair.  "What it likely means is she's going to kill Kristin whether or not she gets what she wants."

_"Nathan, you know as well as I do that the UEO doesn't deal in hostage situations..."_

"Oh, don't give me that line!  I'm _not_ going to just sit here, Bill; we have to find her!"

_"Do you know where to start looking?"_

"Besides Anchorage, no.  Lieutenant O'Neill is still working on narrowing down the origin of the transmission," Nathan sighed.  "He's been trying to crack their masking code for the past four hours with no luck.  Every time he gets close, the trace terminates."

 _"So she could be anywhere in Alaska,"_ the secretary general pointed out.

"At least.  O'Neill has determined that, despite the masking code, the disbursement is occurring within a limited radius.  The problem, of course, is narrowing it down to an exact location."  Nathan rubbed his forehead, mentally cursing the headache that was beginning to manifest itself.  "Once we get back to Anchorage, we'll begin the search there.  But I'm concerned about word getting out....I'd prefer to keep this quiet for as long as possible."

 _"Me, too.  God forbid the press get wind of this."_   Noyce rolled his eyes at the thought.

"The other problem is most of my crew doesn't know the Anchorage area that well...." 

_"I have the feeling I know what you're going to ask, and unfortunately, the answer is no."_

"You know I wouldn't make such a request if it wasn't an emergency.  I could use assistance from the NCIS contingent at Elmendorf-Richardson, but I have the feeling Captain Tillman would turn me down."

 _"You know he would, because he would have to,"_ Noyce pointed out. 

Nathan pushed down his frustration and forced himself to count to five before responding.  "You realize I'm working against the clock here.  It's already been almost twenty-four hours; hell, it's probably past twenty-four hours by now."

_"Look, Nathan.  I understand where you're coming from.  And I know Doctor Westphalen is important to you and your crew, but I cannot authorize the use of extra personnel to look for one person."_

"Bill, I'm not asking for more personnel in the long-term.  I'm only requesting their help for canvassing the city.  Anything beyond that will be handled by Chief Crocker's people."

Noyce was silent for a long moment before he sighed.  _"All right, I'll speak to Tillman.  But, if he agrees, you better make damn sure you adhere to that limitation."_

"I will.  And thank you, Bill."

_"You're welcome, Nathan.  I hope you find her."  
_

They shared a look of understanding before Noyce ended the transmission.  Nathan stared at the now-blank screen for a long moment before the quick footsteps approaching just outside the door and the loud double rap that followed reminded him that the hardest part was yet to come.  "Come in."

The hatch swung inward and Lucas bounded through.  "Hey, Captain.  What did you need to talk to me about?" he asked, pushing the door shut again with a foot and flipping the catch without looking.

Nathan sighed inwardly.  He was not looking forward to this conversation.  "Have a seat, Lucas."  He ignored the creaking protest of the chair as the teenager flopped into it and crossed one leg over the other.  His mind was in too deep of turmoil.  How was he to explain this?  Kristin had become almost a mother figure to Lucas in his time onboard _seaQuest_ ; this could potentially devastate him, especially if they somehow failed to rescue her...

 _No._   Nathan shut that train of thought down before it could gather speed.  He could not allow himself to think of failure on that scale, or even entertain the thought of losing Kristin.

"Captain, whatever it is, you can tell me."  When Nathan didn't respond, Lucas prompted, "I can see it in your eyes."

"I suppose it would be easier to explain if you saw for yourself."  There was no going back now.  He tapped the key to bring up the replay on the vid link and braced himself for Lucas' reaction.

Nathan watched Lucas' expression as he stared at the replay intently, a puzzled look on his face.  His eyes widened when he realized exactly what the dark-haired woman was implying.  When the image cut to Kristin's bruised, unconscious form, he went pale.  The replay ended a moment later and the screen returned to the UEO trident, but Lucas continued to stare at it in blank shock for several moments.

"We...we have to get her out of there..."  He finally turned to Nathan, eyes filled with a mix of fear and desperation.

"We will, Lucas."  Nathan hoped he sounded as confident as he thought he did.  "That is the other reason I called you here, to ask if you can help O'Neill break the hacker's codes.  I don't know what this Len will say or show us when she contacts us again, so if at any point, you feel it would be too difficult to concentrate, I understand."

Lucas shook his head adamantly.  "I appreciate what you're trying to do, Captain, but I can handle it."

"All right.  But if you change your mind, you let me know."

"I will."  Lucas met Nathan's gaze again.  "What if....what if we can't find her in time?"

Nathan put an arm around Lucas and, when the boy leaned in, finally wrapped him in a hug.  "We _will_ find her, Lucas.  I promise."

 


	7. 6 - Storm the Sorrow

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: There is some physical violence in this chapter. It is not graphic or gory, but it may be triggering to some, so I am placing this warning here just in case.
> 
> Translation for the Portuguese words:  
>  amada - beloved
> 
> * * *

 

 **Chapter 6 ~ Storm the Sorrow**

 

 _"Len....don't have much time....being pursued....that damn Bridger got....upper hand.  Thought I was going to make it, but....getting shot at.  They've already hit one of my engines....closing in on me.  Never thought...end like this.  Sorry that I can't....home, but I want you to know....best part of my life.  I love you...."_

Len opened her eyes and sighed.  She didn't even have to replay the message to her to hear it:  every word, every crackle of interference was etched into her memory.  That final burst of static that had lasted for an eternal moment before the connection had been severed was akin to a death knell. 

Her nightmares had brought about more vivid imagery.  She had tried everything but hardcore drugs to blot out their existence once she slipped into the realms of sleep.  Nothing had worked.  She could still picture Mari trying to plug leaks with her hands as more burst in, see her struggle for air as the unforgiving waters wrapped her in their suffocating embrace.  Suffering would have been inescapable.  Her beautiful lover had endured too much for one person in life; it was a cruel irony that she should have to die a horrible death. 

And it was all Nathan Bridger's fault.  But she would show him the true meaning of suffering, and she would do it by the exact same means he'd inflicted upon her. 

"Walt."  

"Yeah, boss?" 

"Meet me below.  And bring her with you." 

 

(*) 

 

"Miss Barrett."  Chief Shan gestured Charli into the security office.  "Please, have a seat." 

Charli sat in the chair he indicated, one hand fiddling nervously with the end of her braid.  "Do...do I have the right to know why I've been called in here?" 

Shan raised an eyebrow at the question.  "Of course you do," he replied as he sat down across from her.  "I just need to ask you a few questions.  You're not in any trouble."  He watched her relax visibly and made a mental note of it.  Keying in his passcode on the console, he began entering information while keeping his eyes on the young intern.  "Did you leave the ship while we were docked in Anchorage?" 

"Yes, for a few hours.  I stayed down on sea deck until about 1100 because I had to let Darwin out to feed.  I was working on my thesis outline.  After he went out, I decided to take a break and go into the city for the afternoon." 

"What did you do while you were in the city?" 

"I have a friend who lives in the area.  I sent her a quick communication and since she was available, we met for lunch.  After lunch, I just walked around for a while." 

"And what time did you return?" 

"It was around 1700, I think?  Maybe a little after." 

"Do you recall if you spoke to anyone when you were returning?" 

Charli nodded.  "I ran into Alisha...Ensign Williams.  She checked in right behind me and we left the docking bay together." 

"Did you happen to see Doctor Westphalen in the docking bay?"  Shan had shifted his gaze to the console screen, but was closely watching Charli out of the corner of his eye. 

"No.  The only person I saw that I knew was Ensign Williams." 

"Did you see Doctor Westphalen at all yesterday?" 

"Only in the morning.  Since I originally did not plan to go topside, she asked me to let Darwin out to feed and to check his tail bandages when he returned.  Then she left to go topside herself." 

"And what time was that?" 

"Around 0930, I believe."  

She had started fiddling with her hair again.  Shan thought to himself how the gesture would have been distracting to someone with less patience.  He keyed in a save command on his console and nodded to Charli.  "All right, Miss Barrett.  I appreciate your time.  I'll let you know if we have any further questions."  He watched her leave, raising an eyebrow at how she seemed to hurry out.  But was it uneasiness or something more? 

 

(*) 

 

Cynthia Westphalen's fingers were shaking as she keyed in the contact code she needed and waited for a response.  She tried to take deep, calming breaths but her mounting anxiety prevented that usual calming technique.  A blinking icon appeared on her screen, indicating that her transmission had connected and was on standby.  After a tense five minute wait, Nathan Bridger's face appeared on her screen. 

"Captain Bridger, I just got off the link with an Agent Brickey from the NCIS office in Anchorage.  They're telling me Mom has been taken _hostage,_ and refuse to tell me anything else." 

She watched him close his eyes and sigh momentarily before he met her gaze again.  _"What they're telling you is true.  And unfortunately, there really isn't much else that I_ can _tell you."_

"Captain, please.  Don't brush me off.  I've already gotten that treatment from the NCIS people."  Realizing she sounded snappish, Cynthia forced herself to pause and take a couple deep breaths before continuing.  "Why would anyone have a reason to kidnap Mom?  I want to know and I have the right to know what the hell is going _on."_

_"I apologize if you think I'm withholding information from you, Cynthia.  The simple fact is that, right now, we know very little.  The person who has taken your mother has not even told us what it is she wants in order to ensure her release."_

"She?" Cynthia repeated in disbelief.  "Another woman is the kidnapper??"  When he nodded, she shook her head in frustration and disbelief.  "I'm surprised that agent didn't question me further; does Mom have any enemies I know about, et cetera." 

_"That will likely be what they ask you when they call again_ ," Nathan replied.  _"Special Agent Moonin has already asked me all of those questions and more.  Her team is also canvassing the city, while Chief Crocker and his people have been talking to the crewmembers who last saw or talked to your mother."_

Cynthia watched him rub a hand across his brow and was struck by the fact that the simple gesture suddenly made him seem ten years older.  _"We're doing everything we can right now.  I'm hoping that, with the help of the NCIS team, we can find her soon.  I'm as worried about her as you are."  
_

 _I can tell._   "I appreciate you filling me in, Captain.  Even though it's not much, at least I have an idea of what's going on." 

_"If and when I find out more, I'll let you know."_   

After the transmission had ended, Cynthia buried her face in her hands with a shaky sigh.  Warm hands settled on her shoulders and she instinctively leaned back into them.  "How could this have happened?"  It was a pointless question, but she voiced it nonetheless. 

"The most important thing is that they will not stop until they find her."  Malique began to massage her shoulders, instinctively finding the knot of tension at the base of her neck and working on it with his thumbs. 

"What if...if they can't?" 

"They will.  Have faith." 

"I do, Malique.  I just...I'm scared for Mom."  Her last words came out in a rush and she blinked frantically in a futile attempt to hold back tears.  

"Whoever this woman is, she has made a grave mistake," Malique remarked.  "Captain Bridger is a determined man.  We both saw that when he helped us rescue the boys from the _favela_ months ago, and we were all technically strangers to him.  But your mother, she is his _amada_.  His resolve will be even stronger because of this." 

"True."  Cynthia sighed again and swiped a hand across her eyes.  "I just hope...he can find her." 

"He will, Cynthia _._ I know he will." 

 

(*) 

 

A hard kick in the hip jerked Kristin out of the fitful doze she'd fallen into.  Blinking the sleep out of her eyes, she looked up warily at Walt, who had his pistol pointed at her.  He used it to gesture for her to stand up.  She had barely gotten to her feet when she was immediately shoved against the wall; she winced when Walt grabbed her arms and pinned them behind her.  The binding of her wrists didn't surprise her, but heading deeper into the undersea section of the labs did.  She cast furtive glances around, trying to see landmarks through the dimness that she could use should the opportunity to escape present itself.  There were several more closed doors, but most of the signing was either badly faded or removed entirely. 

The corridor finally dead-ended in a large, circular chamber.  It felt even colder than her cell, and Kristin surmised that it was built at the lowest depth.  A light rumble under their feet caused Walt to curse and she paused, bracing herself in case the tremor decided to grow in intensity.  But it faded almost instantly, leaving only a faraway sound she couldn't put her finger on.  It sounded a little like water lightly sloshing and she found herself eyeing the ceiling and curves of the walls, looking for any structural weakening. 

"I assure you, there are no leaks anywhere in this structure."  Len's voice made her turn to see the other woman lounging across the room against what looked like a section of shelving.  "I made sure of that before I chose this location." 

"I hope you took into account all the seismic activity as well." 

"I'm not stupid, Doctor.  It would take a decent quake to cause any damage to this building, above or below the water line.  The only thing affected by the seismic activity around here brought you to this room."  Len snickered and rose lazily to her feet.  Pacing in a wide circle, she stopped in front of Kristin.  For a very long moment, blue eyes stared into sable-brown ones.  Then Len grabbed Kristin's chin roughly, turning her head to look at her profile.  Letting out a disgusted snort, she released her grip a moment later.  "I can't imagine what the hell Bridger sees in you, but then there's no accounting for taste." 

"Excuse me?" 

"I'm not in the mood for games, _Kristin._   The two of you may think your affair is a secret, but it's quite obvious to anyone with eyes.  You could at least be honest and admit it." 

How was it that this complete stranger could know anything about her feelings for Nathan?  The thought chilled her a little, making her wonder what else this woman knew.  But she forced herself to keep her expression calm.  "You don't appear to be under the influence of any hallucinogenic substance."  She watched the brunette's eyes narrow dangerously as she continued.  "But regardless of whether you are or not, whatever is 'obvious to anyone with eyes' is completely lost on me." 

Len glared at her for a long moment before suddenly smiling coldly.  "Nice try.  Two can play that game, however.  I wonder what the UEO higher-ups would have to say about your fraternizing with the captain of their prized flagship." 

"I'm technically a civilian scientist, so your wild conjecture doesn't fall under fraternization.  Besides, are you telling me that two adults can't just be friends?" 

Len smirked.  "Of course, two adults can 'just be friends'.  But don't insult my intelligence by suggesting that label applies to you and Bridger." 

"One of the reporters who attended the UEO summit was quite generous with the information they provided."  Kristin turned at the sound of Kamik's voice to see the young man stepping into the room.  When Len glanced his way, he nodded to her.  She returned the nod and then smirked again. 

"Extremely generous, as a matter of fact.  Not only was the Wolenczak brat all over Noyce's niece, but apparently you and Bridger disappeared for quite a while at one point."  A hint of satisfaction flickered in Len's icy blue eyes at the slight paling of Kristin's face.  "Did you really _think_ no one would notice?  Sneaking off for a tryst with half the world watching?  I thought you were smarter than that.  But that was your first mistake.  Unfortunately for you, you won't get the chance to repeat it." 

Glancing over at Walt, Len flicked her hand.  Kristin didn't have time to think about the gesture before Walt gave her a brutal shove.  She stumbled back, trying and failing to throw herself forward in order to regain her balance.  When one foot suddenly made contact with empty air, she couldn't suppress the scream that burst out.  The sudden shock of hitting icy seawater was even more terrifying.  For a long moment, she panicked, sinking further into the water.  Without being able to use her arms, the panic worsened before her common sense rose up and reminded her she could still kick.  Opening her eyes, she detected a faint glimmer above and kicked herself in that direction. 

Breaking to the surface, she sucked in a deep breath and tried to shake her hair out of her eyes.  It was all she got before she was shoved back underwater.  True terror sank in as she tried to get her head above water and was pushed back down with every attempt.  When she tried to move out of reach, the hand twined into her hair and held her under.  Her chest tightened from the lack of oxygen and her head began to pound.  Just when she thought she was going to pass out, the grip on her hair was suddenly gone.  

Kicking frantically, she burst to the surface, gasping and coughing while trying to get enough air in.  Hands latched onto her arms, dragging her out of the water and onto her feet.  But her trembling legs wouldn't hold her upright and she collapsed to her knees, shaking both from the cold and the effort to breathe. 

Len's mocking laughter echoed through the chamber.  "You look like the proverbial drowned rat.  What a pretty picture this will make for your darling Nathan."  

Walt and Kamik snickered for a long minute. 

"Get her out of here.  I'm through....for now." 

She was jerked back to her feet.  The first couple steps, she almost fell, but she eventually gained her footing.  Walt kept the pistol barrel against her chin the whole way back to her cell.  Not even when he pushed her inside and followed her in did he put it away.  A new shiver of fear went down her spine, and it had nothing to do with the chill of her wet clothes.  Would he kill her now?  Or was the torture going to continue at his hands? 

"Now, I think it's time I taught you that lesson in respect."  Before Kristin could move, his fist slammed into her stomach.  Gasping, she doubled over and then crumpled to the ground when her balance once more failed her.  He kicked her in the hip and laughed when she yelped in pain.  

"So you can dish it out, but you can't take it?"  When he lifted his foot to kick her again, she managed to deliver a glancing kick of her own to his other foot.  He swore and hopped back a few steps. 

"I've about had enough of that out of you..."  A slightly stronger seismic tremor rocked the floor and Walt stumbled, almost falling down himself.  He started to advance on Kristin once more, and she braced herself, ready to kick him again if needed.  Both were suddenly distracted by the sound of applause from the doorway and turned to see Kamik leaning against the closed door, clapping slowly. 

"Nicely done, Walt.  Very nice."  He crossed the room to Kristin and she tensed, but he merely took her by the arm and helped her to her feet.  "Now how about you untie her and see how you would measure up against her in an even fight?" 

"I'm not that stupid." 

"You mean you know you would lose." 

Walt snorted contemptuously.  "That's the problem with you kids.  You don't know how to have a little fun." 

Kamik smirked.  "Not much fun beating on an opponent who cannot provide a challenge by fighting you back." 

"You thinking to tell Len about this?  She won't give a damn." 

"I know," Kamik replied evenly.  He was obviously unruffled by the older man's challenging tone.  "Bridger killed her woman, and that is why we have taken his.  But I still find her methods much more...shall we say, interesting to observe.  Pure physical punishment is for amateurs.  Len's little experiment is the kind that brings out all the emotional and psychological demons one keeps locked away, never to be acknowledged until they are forced to surface."  His gaze slid to Kristin.  "Wouldn't you agree, Doctor?" 

Kristin glared at him, but remained silent.  There was no way she was going to dignify that with an answer.  Raising an eyebrow at her silent glower, he shrugged and looked back to Walt.  "However, I do remember Len telling you to keep your hands to yourself." 

Kristin watched the two men stare one another down.  She didn't trust either of them and, despite the strong shivers that were distracting her, knew she couldn't afford to let down her guard.  Walt's gaze was defiant, while Kamik's remained almost detached.  Walt shifted his feet and, unconsciously, Kristin inched back a step.  He caught the flicker of movement and his eyes slid to her, narrowing slightly.  A moment later, his gaze returned to Kamik before he suddenly spun around and headed for the door.  The metallic bang was punctuated by another brief quaking of the floor.  Not prepared for it, Kristin stumbled and sat down hard, biting back another yelp of pain. 

Kamik moved to her side, withdrawing a thin-bladed knife from his boot.  She cringed away from him, but he merely shook his head in bemusement and, circling behind her, sliced through the rope binding her wrists.  Glad to have her arms finally free, Kristin sighed in relief.  She rubbed her wrists and eyed the young Aleut warily.  He was casually tossing the knife in the air, catching it by the hilt each time.  "It's probably pointless to ask you this, but what did you mean by saying that Nath...Captain Bridger...killed someone?" 

"As I reminded Walt, that is why you are here." 

Kristin shook her head in disbelief.  "Then you must be mistaken.  I know him; he would never do such a thing." 

Kamik shrugged one shoulder and moved towards the door.  "Then obviously, you do not know him as well as you think, Doctor." 

"Who exactly is it that he is supposed to have killed?" Kristin demanded. 

"I'm afraid that information is Len's to divulge, not mine."  The door banged shut behind him. 

Kristin sighed in exasperation and then shivered again.  Reluctantly, she peeled off her drenched sweater.  Being down to her t-shirt was both a blessing and a curse; despite the weight of it, the long sleeves had kept her skin protected from the chill in the air.  It was pointless to lay the sweater out in hopes that it would dry, but she did it anyway.  Sinking down onto the cot, she rubbed her bare arms, trying to ignore the shudders wracking her from head to toe.  If she didn't find some way to warm herself, hypothermia would quickly set in.  Although the cold was a distraction, her mind was still focused on Kamik's cryptic remarks.  

_Bridger killed her woman...._   The turn of phrase seemed to imply murder.  But the very idea was inconceivable.  Nathan was a man of science; he valued life.  The only times he had been responsible for taking lives had been during battle, and only then when circumstance deemed it necessary.  She knew that those times onboard _seaQuest_ had been few and far between; there was the incident with Max Scully mere months ago, and the year before that, the attack and sabotage orchestrated by... 

_Marilyn Stark._   Kristin remembered the momentary glimpse she'd gotten of _seaQuest's_ disgraced ex-captain--a ruthless blonde whose only goal was revenge, regardless of who else might be harmed in the process.  She knew in that instant that Stark had to be Len's woman. 

But that still did not explain the implication regarding Nathan.  When the _seaQuest_ crew had rescued survivors from the downed enemy sub, they discovered that the mini-sub was missing--as were a dozen or so of the _Delta-4's_ crew, Stark included.  Everyone had therefore assumed that she had safely escaped.  Obviously, that was not the case.  

Which left only one question:  if Stark was indeed dead, why did Len assume Nathan was responsible? 

 

(*) 

 

"Thank you, Ensign.  If I need any more information, I'll let you know."  Crocker said to Alisha Williams as she got to her feet. 

"Happy to help, sir," Alisha replied and departed the security office, nodding to Chief Shan as he waited for her to exit before entering. 

"You got the statement from the Barrett girl?" 

"Yes, Chief.  It's been uploaded to the database." 

"All right."  Crocker glanced over the information on the screen.  "Crenshaw talked to Phillips and he didn't see the doc at all.  He checked in and went straight to his quarters."  Closing the file, he found Shan's interview with Charli and opened the new file.  He gave it a quick read, then frowned and reread slowly.  "Now that's odd." 

"What is?" Shan asked curiously. 

"Well, Williams mentioned that Barrett had a bit of trouble with the scanner.  Something about grabbing her school ID by mistake.  But doesn't look like she told you that." 

"No, she did not."  Shan leaned over Crocker's shoulder as the security chief brought up Alisha's statement next to Charli's; he slowly scrolled through them both so Shan could read them side by side.  "It is also interesting that she mentioned Miss Barrett being jumpy.  As you can see by my notes, she seemed rather apprehensive.  Her first words to me were to ask if she had a right to know why she was being questioned." 

Crocker's frown graduated to a scowl.  "Rather odd thing to be askin' if you're innocent." 

"I thought so, too...."  The chirp of the audio link interrupted Shan and he tapped the on key.  "This is Shan." 

_"Chief Crocker has an incoming transmission from the NCIS office at Elmendorf-Richardson."_

"Patch it through, please," Crocker ordered, quickly closing the interview files.  

A thin-faced, dark-haired young man's image soon appeared on the screen.  _"Chief Crocker?  I'm Special Agent Matt Sovalik. I'm sending a transmission over to you now, containing the information from our initial canvass.  Our team gathered quite a few helpful witness statements, but you might want to look at the ones I have flagged first.  There's also some security camera footage from one of the shops that shows Doctor Westphalen speaking to a man who we feel is a person of interest."_

"Have you talked to this guy yet?" Crocker asked. 

_"We have not yet identified him.  When we do, we will begin searching for him."_

"Understood."  After Sovalik had signed off, Crocker waited for the transmitted files to finish loading before opening the witness statements and going immediately to the ones marked as top priority.  Shan continued to read over Crocker's shoulder and both officers were silent for several long minutes before Crocker spoke again.  "Looks like this Native girl was one of the last people to talk to the doc.  Sovalik's note says that the security footage is from the cameras in her shop." 

Ignoring the rest of the flagged witness statements, Crocker closed the interviews file and opened up the file containing the security footage.  The camera's angle appeared to be alongside the counter, pointing towards the shop's front window.  Kristin and Katya were visible in the foreground, the latter behind the counter.  The two women were talking animatedly while Katya was working the register and boxing up a small item after wrapping it in paper. 

"That must be the man Agent Sovalik mentioned."  Shan indicated a dark-haired man who had stepped into the shop.  His expression was one of agitation, but when Shan followed his gaze, it was obvious who he was looking at. 

"I don't like the way he's lookin' at the doc," Crocker muttered as the man approached Kristin, and after a short conversation, led the way out of the shop with her on his heels.  They headed to the left and disappeared off camera a minute later.  Grumbling to himself, the security chief brought up the file list to see if there was any additional footage, sighing when he found none.  "Looks like that's the only camera there was.  Pity there wasn't one outside the...." 

"Wait a minute.  Bring that back up and rewind it," Shan interrupted. 

The playback had ended, so Crocker restarted it.  "You see somethin', Shan?" 

"I might have.  Can you start it from the moment the doctor leaves the shop?"  Crocker tapped in the necessary commands.  "Stop.  Rewind about ten seconds.  There."  Shan pointed at the upper left hand side of the screen. 

Knowing what Shan wanted without asking, Crocker punched in another command and zoomed in on the frozen frame.  They had to wait a few moments for the pixilation to clear; when it did, Crocker's eyes widened, then narrowed in surprise.  "Is that..." 

"I believe it is, sir."  Shan's tone was grim. 


	8. 7 - Through a Veil of Madness

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Extra credit goes to my beta goddesses Cam and Darkin: Cam for the beginning of this chapter's first scene (we were discussing this chapter and her muse got going. Gotta love when things like that can happen between two writers!) And Darkin for helping me get around writers' block at a pivotal point. Thanks bunches, girls :) :)
> 
>  
> 
> Also, kudos to Aiko and Neo from the RLT as well as April and Ricky from my local NaNo group for your input at certain places. You guys were awesomely helpful. Thanks lots :)
> 
>  
> 
> Songs used for inspiration: "The Infinite Tear" by The Cruxshadows and "Love and War" by Drowning Pool.

**Chapter 7 ~ Through a Veil of Madness**

**_2018  
somewhere in the Pacific_ **

_Cowards_ , she seethed. _All of them!_

She could salvage this mission. She could still win. The ship was sinking, but she could still—

_No. Live._

The voice, so faint she almost missed it, came to Marilyn Stark unbidden. At first she thought one of the crew had dug deep and found the testicular fortitude to remain with their captain, but there was no one about.

_Live._

Suddenly she knew who it was. Len's voice, always such a calm on her soul. The love of her life could be nothing else and, for the briefest of moments, she smiled.

_Live, Mari. Come home to me._

Maybe she was imagining the voice. Maybe she wasn't. Whatever the case, it got her feet moving. Marilyn made her way off the bridge in the direction of the mini-sub, following behind crewmembers still stumbling toward it themselves. Then suddenly she paused, an epiphany occurring to her. _The captain's cruiser!_

Turning sharply, she headed in the opposite direction. Built to hold only one, the 15-foot craft was less a boat than it was a submersible cockpit with minimal shields and enough power to supply the miniscule engine and life support system for five days. But it would be enough to get her back to Hawaii if she pushed it. Marilyn was suddenly glad that Le Chein had included it in his illegally obtained D-4, and that his cowardly son appeared to have conveniently forgotten about it in his determination to reach the mini-sub.

"Idiot," she smirked. But Maxwell's loss was her gain. Reaching the hatch, she spun the wheel to the left and flung the door open, not bothering to shut it behind her as she keyed open the cruiser's cockpit. Let the water flood whatever was left after she launched. At least she could potentially deny Bridger that piece of evidence.

Strapping herself in, Marilyn slammed the cockpit shut above her and powered up the cruiser. She felt the D-4 shudder around her, stronger this time, and knew it was beginning to break up. The second the launch sequence was fully initiated, she keyed in a new command and the bay doors unfolded before her. The sea poured in, embracing her little craft and flooding past her into its drowning parent as she shot out into open water. The sonar screen immediately lit up, alerting her to _seaQuest's_ position, as well as the mini-sub slowly escaping in an easterly direction. She turned the cruiser northeast and plotted a course towards Kauai, keeping an eye on the sonar the whole time.

She didn't relax for nearly four hours, until she was certain _seaQuest_ was out of range and apparently either had chosen not to track her or hadn't noticed her at all. Only then did she allow herself a sigh of relief. But relief soon faded into ire.

She couldn't believe it. Her plan was supposed to have been perfect! How could it have possibly fallen apart? Losing the D-4, now that she had almost expected. Maxwell Le Chein was his father's son and, while he cared for more than just wealth, he was still lacking in the intellect department. The "crew" Le Chein had supplied her with were a pathetic bunch, evidenced by their cowardice.

But the virus! That was supposed to have been the piece de resistance. Bridger's smug declaration about having found it still rankled. She still couldn't fathom how. Certainly not by Hitchcock. Yes, that insipid girl was a talented engineer, to give the devil her due. But there was still no way she would have been able to find it. As for Bridger, his background was largely based in the sciences, so it wasn't likely that he had been the one to discover it, either. She would likely never know for certain.

The next several hours passed uneventfully, but her senses remained on high alert. She kept an eagle eye on the sonar, both to keep track of any nearby ships and to have forewarning in case Bridger had caught wind of her trail and intended to come after her.

Marilyn's thoughts drifted back to Len. She had not heard from her wife in two weeks and hoped she was doing all right. After the fallout surrounding her forced resignation from NORPAC, it had been Len who had pointed out that the best thing to do was leave Annapolis, especially since they were attempting to force her into psychiatric evaluation. And there was no way she was ever going to talk to a shrink.

Thankfully, they did not have to scramble to choose another place to live. Len had a small house on Kauai, inherited from a grandparent who had died before she and Marilyn had met. Moving there had been easy; they had mutually decided to pack as little as possible and just start over. It was the staying on alert that kept Marilyn on edge. The military that had once been her life might have been absorbed into the UEO, but she wouldn't be surprised if they were looking for her, whether to force her into the demanded psych eval, to officially court-martial her, or both.

All because she was smart enough to know that this ludicrous idea of peace would never work. She snorted in amusement, remembering Bridger's attempt to plead with her about innocent people and second chances. He was as deluded as the UEO was. She had unfortunately failed in her attempt to prove it to him, but he would learn the hard way eventually.

The soft trill from the sensor panel disrupted her train of thought. It showed two other ships coming up alongside and behind her on an obvious intercept course. No, three. A third one appeared on the sensors a moment later, this one in a move clearly meant to box her in. She swore under her breath for allowing herself to become distracted. From what her limited sensors could pick up, they definitely were not UEO vessels. However, that left a lot of other possibilities; none of them good. The communications panel lit up a moment later, indicating they were attempting contact. She thought about ignoring it, then shrugged and flipped the switch to open the link. _Oh, what the hell...let's hear them bark._

 _"Unidentified vessel, you are in our territory. You are to leave at once."_ The voice over the comm system was male and sounded young, but authoritative, its owner obviously used to having his demands heeded.

Marilyn snorted under her breath as she double-checked the sensor readings. While she was outnumbered three to one and they had weapons, their ships weren't any bigger than her own. "You're lying. I know for a fact that this is UEO territory," she said haughtily. "Which means only they have authority in this area." She sat back, folding her arms over her chest and allowing herself a moment of satisfaction. Did they really think she was stupid enough to fall for their sorry attempt at intimidation?

A snicker echoed back in response. _"We don't bow to the UEO."_ There was a long minute's pause, as if giving her time to consider her options. _"And since none of their ships are anywhere within range, none of them will come to your rescue if you don't heed our warning."_

"Actually they would, because I am a UEO captain." She smirked to herself at how easily the lie came to her. Not that any UEO vessel within range _would_ come to her aid except to arrest her; but these base criminals wouldn't know any better.

Besides, it had almost been true. At least until Livingston Trench. It really was a pity she hadn't been able to destroy _seaQuest_ and eliminate not only Bridger, but Ford as well. Her once-revered mentor, a man she'd admired above nearly all others. And the arrogant bastard who had screwed her out of her career and her pride. What a bonus it would have been to drown the both of them with one well-aimed shot.

Another minute passed before there was a low laugh from the pirate. _"Is that so?"_

A slight tremor of worry rose to the surface before she brutally silenced it. There was no way they could know who she was, even if Bridger had the authority to put out any sort of warrant on her. One hand automatically reached for the spot on the console where weapons control would be on any other ship and, upon remembering that she had none, muttered an oath under her breath. She froze momentarily, hoping they hadn't heard her voicing her frustration. Shaking off the annoying sensation of fear trying to get the upper hand, she narrowed her eyes at the main screen and the trio of enemy craft without. "By my authority, I order you to..."

 _"No UEO captain would be sailing alone on such an..._ inadequate _craft, and without escort."_ The smug interruption both angered and unnerved her; her heart began to pound suddenly at the realization that she wouldn't be able to push her way out of this as easily as she'd originally assumed. _"But please, humor me. I'd like to see if they actually come running."_

"Do you really think you can intimidate me?!" she said icily. Mounting terror warred with fury and she ignored her shaking hands, clenching one into a fist. "I've faced multiple warships ten times your size and defeated them! And I sure as hell don't need to call for help from the UEO...I can take you down _myself_!"

 _"Then by all means, Captain, take your best shot."_ The taunt was accompanied by a hearty laugh. _"Of course, that might be a little difficult when you have no weapons..."_

The bastard's laughter almost covered the alert that warned of the incoming torpedo and the first shot grazed the cruiser's belly. Marilyn swore mentally, keying in a quick course adjustment. Without weapons of her own, the only hope she had was the use of evasive maneuvers. By turning hard to port, she managed to evade the second torpedo. But the third shot they fired hit the starboard engine and the impact nearly threw her out of the chair. She gripped the console with one hand, using it to pull herself back upright while trying desperately to key in commands with the other. Every hit was detrimental to her little craft. Cursing aloud, she changed her tactic, keying open the communication system and entering a familiar code. She prayed the connection would stay active long enough to transmit.

"Len, I don't have much time. I'm being attacked by pirates. Lost the D-4 thanks to Le Chein's incompetents. So in the end, that damn Bridger got the upper hand." Another blow shook the cruiser and set off alarms that she slapped into silence. She didn't need them to tell her that the cruiser was now completely dead in the water. "Thought I was going to make it, but now I'm getting shot at. They've already hit my engines and they're closing in on me. Never thought it would end like this. Sorry that I can't make it home, but I want you to know...you've always been the best part of my life." Tuning out the shrill warning klaxon of another incoming torpedo, Marilyn felt a strange and sudden calm settling over her. She closed her eyes, focusing on seeing Len in her mind's eye: her beautiful blue eyes, her smile, the sweetness of her laugh. "I love you..."

She didn't sense the final explosion or even the crushing pressure of the ocean wrapping around her; her thoughts had already taken her beyond awareness.

 

(*)

 

Manilow Crocker folded his arms, staring down at Charli Barrett with hard eyes. He had liked the girl when she'd first come onboard the boat; she had been respectful and well-mannered right off the bat, something not seen too often in today's young people. She had also meshed pretty well with the crew. It wasn't always easy for the civilian types to do so; yet, she had always being respectful of the command crew and adhering to the regs with relative ease. The fact that he could have misjudged her character so drastically annoyed him.

"So, you're sure the last time you talked to Doc Westphalen was the morning she went missing?"

"Yes, just like I told Chief Shan."

"And you went out to meet your cousin for lunch around 1330 hours. Where was it that you met her?"

Charli chewed her lip thoughtfully. "I honestly don't recall the name of the café. It's one that she has talked about all the time. Knows the owners, that sort of thing."

"Uh-huh. Now we know you said you didn't see the doc when you checked back in. Did you happen to see her out in the city?" When she shook her head, Crocker pressed, "You're sure about that?"

"Of course I'm sure." Crocker exchanged a glance with Shan at the clear defensiveness in her tone. "If I had, I would have introduced her to my cousin."

"Well, y'see, we have a bit of a problem here, Charli. 'Cause when you look at this, it tells us somethin' a bit different." Crocker nodded to Shan, who activated the vid link. They both observed as the blonde watched the security footage Agent Sovalik had sent over. She showed no recognition of the man who approached Kristin, but when she realized who entered the frame minutes after the pair disappeared, some of the color drained out of her face.

"I suggest you explain yourself, Miss Barrett," Shan interjected.

"I told you, I didn't see..."

"The time between Doctor Westphalen walking off camera and your appearance is less than five minutes," Shan interrupted. "Not only are you coming from the opposite direction, but given the layout of the area, it's highly unlikely you would not have at least spotted her in passing."

"I _didn't see_ her," Charli repeated vehemently.

A tap on the hatch preceded Ensign Stayton's entrance. He cast a glance in Charli's direction before turning to Crocker. "Sir, may I speak to you for a moment?"

Crocker nodded and stepped outside the office, pulling the hatch closed behind him. "What'd you find, Stayton?"

"Balducci is still going through her communication logs. Lot of messages back and forth with her cousin Layla. Nothing seemingly out of the ordinary; they talk about current events, her project, mostly mundane topics. But I discovered this under her bunk."

Crocker had to tamp down his anger as Stayton handed him the very piece of evidence he had been expecting would be found. Forcing a quick smile, he gave the young man a pat on the arm and a word of praise before going back into the office. There, he found Charli having a staring contest with Shan, her arms crossed. He could see the trepidation she was trying to mask as she glanced over at him, then away just as quickly.

"Last time I'm gonna ask you, Charli. Did you see the doc or not while you were out in Anchorage?"

"No, I didn't."

"Then you might want to explain to me how Ensign Stayton found this in your quarters." Setting down the item Stayton had given him on the desk in front of her, Crocker watched her eyes widen in shock.

"I..."

"Does explain why the logs say that the doc checked back in right before you did. That line you gave Williams was sure a good attempt at a cover, though." Shaking his head in disgust, Crocker turned on the audio link on the desk. "Captain, could you come to the security office, please?"

_"On my way."_

Crocker permitted himself a moment's satisfaction at seeing her lose a little more color at the sound of the captain's voice, but didn't allow it to show on his face. Stepping back outside the security office with evidence in hand, he waited only a few minutes before he saw the captain headed down the corridor towards him.

"What did you find out, Chief?"

"Well, she's still stickin' to her story as expected, Cap. No surprise there. But Stayton did find this under her bunk." Crocker handed over the ID card, not surprised to see Nathan's eyes widen for a moment before they narrowed in anger. He waited patiently, giving Nathan the few minutes he needed to regain control of his emotions.

"I want to talk to her." The words were quiet but laced with ire.

"Oh, I figured you would." Crocker gestured ahead of him towards the hatch, following the captain as they both entered the office again. The girl had resumed her staring contest with Shan while he had been outside, but the instant she spotted Nathan, she blanched. Crocker closed the hatch and leaned against the wall next to it, casually folding his arms and settling in to watch the show.

"Well, Miss Barrett. I don't suppose you'd like to explain yourself?"

The security chief wasn't at all surprised when Charli refused to meet the captain's gaze. In fact, she looked everywhere but at him, shuffling her feet and looking like she wanted to disappear. Her arms were still crossed, but her fingertips worried at the end of her braid. The silent treatment did not go over well, as the captain continued to press her to talk.

"What could possibly have possessed you to assist in the kidnapping of a member of my crew? Did you think we wouldn't find out what you were up to?"

Crocker was also left wondering what the hell could have possessed this girl to be in league with the woman who'd kidnapped the doc. Shan had double checked with her school that morning; she was indeed a legitimate graduate student and her mentor had extended her thesis deadline by six months in order to accommodate her internship onboard _seaQuest_. She had graduated from Cal State Long Beach with her bachelor's in marine biology before starting her grad thesis. It seemed an awful lot of hard work to be throwing away.

"Keeping silent isn't going to help matters, Miss Barrett. In fact, it's only going to make things worse for you, because I would venture to guess that you are not privy to all the details of Len's intentions. But if you don't tell us what you do know, you'll be the one who ends up taking the fall. Is that what you want?"

The frustration that Nathan was trying to hold back was more than obvious to Crocker. He was doing his damndest to be patient with the girl, even though he probably wanted to shake the answers out of her. Given the circumstances, the security chief was a bit surprised that he was being this patient with her. He knew that his friend had an affection for Doc Westphalen--one that went beyond mere friendship. The way that Cap looked at the doc reminded Crocker of the way he used to look at Carol. And the feeling was very definitely mutual. Oh, they could both pretend all they wanted that they were just good friends, but, in reality, he wasn't fooled by the act they put on.

"I know for a fact that Doctor Westphalen has treated you well from the moment you came aboard this ship." The captain was attempting to tone his glower down to a stern stare. "I also know that she thinks highly of your dedication to your research. Why would you want to harm her when she has been nothing but kind to you?"

Crocker watched Charli's fidgeting increase. The disturbed expression that she was now trying to mask spoke volumes; Cap had obviously hit a nerve with this new line of reasoning. Now the question remained: would it be enough to guilt her into confessing what she knew?

The chirp of the audio link distracted all of them and made Charli flinch. Crocker reached for the link on the wall next to him. "Security."

_"Captain, there's an incoming transmission marked for your eyes only."_

Nathan tensed. "Source?"

_"Unknown. Same masked source and refracted disbursement as before. It's got to be...her."_

"Patch it through to the ward room, Mr. O'Neill. I'll be up there shortly."

_"Aye, sir."_

Nathan threw a final glare in Charli's direction. "Put her in the brig and contact the Anchorage office. Tell Agent Moonin we have a suspect for her."

"You got it, Cap." Crocker nodded in acknowledgement, not missing the set of his friend's shoulders as he exited. This was affecting him more than he let on, that was for sure. Shan already had the girl on her feet and cuffed, so Crocker turned to open the hatch and lead the way for the walk up to the brig.

 

(*)

 

The vid screen was blinking with the incoming call logo when Nathan stepped into the ward room. Latching the door behind him, he eyed the screen for a long minute, almost reluctant to have to deal with Len again; though at least he now had one point in his favor: uncovering Charli as the mole she'd obviously planted onboard. His determination renewed, he keyed on the vid link.

Expecting to be facing Len, the first glimpse of Kristin on the screen gave him momentary pause. Despite the dim lighting, he studied her face, relieved to see that there were no visible signs of injury to her except the fading bruise on her cheek. A man stood next to her with a hard grip on one arm, but his back was mostly to the camera; all that could be discerned was his dark hair. Len stood in front of Kristin and the two were obviously talking, but there was no audio. The relief vanished in an instant when Len grabbed Kristin by the jaw, turning her head to the side.

 _"...but...no accounting for taste."_ The sound of Len's voice suddenly came through the connection, fading in and out as if the audio was malfunctioning.

_"Excuse me?"_

_"...not in the mood for games...two of you may think...affair is a secret, but...obvious..."_ There was a snapping sound through the link and a moment of silence before Len's voice returned, this time much clearer. _"...at least be honest and admit it."_

Despite not being able to hear all that had been said, Nathan's eyes narrowed at the screen. Two-thirds of the _seaQuest's_ crew had gone ashore in Anchorage; it stood to reason that it was more than mere coincidence that Kristin was the one who had been abducted. He had suspected from the moment he'd laid eyes on Len that her actions were aimed at him personally, and this confirmed it. The question that still remained was why.

 _"One of the reporters who attended the UEO summit was quite generous with the information they provided."_ The casual words, coming from the direction of a younger man whose features were largely hidden by the background shadows he stood in, sent a chill down Nathan's back. He barely absorbed Len's remarks about Lucas and Shannon Noyce, his mind too busy racing with the implications. A _reporter_ had sold Len information about him and Kristin? And he highly doubted that it ended there. First the Barrett girl and now this. How many people did Len have working for her? Just how far did her influence reach?

His mental turmoil almost made him miss Len's casual wave of the hand, but his attention riveted back to it when the man who had been holding onto Kristin's arm suddenly gave her a hard shove. The anger that flared up turned to horror when he suddenly spotted the dark hole in the floor behind her, and his hand clenched into a fist when she tumbled into the water, almost immediately sinking out of sight. She surfaced in moments, but the dark-haired man was waiting at the edge of the pit and every time she surfaced, he pushed her back down; at one point he even grabbed her by the hair, holding her under while she struggled. All the while, Len stood at the edge of the pit, watching it play out with a cold, satisfied smile.

It seemed an eternity to Nathan before Len instructed the man to stop. He and the younger man, who had been lurking in the shadows, hauled Kristin out of the water. She tried to stand, but her balance gave out almost immediately, and she sank to her knees, head bowed, shaking and breathing in ragged gasps. Heartache warred with rage at the sight; knowing that they still didn't know where Len was hiding and the knowledge that time was working against them only agitated him further. _Just hold on, Kristin. I'll find you, get you out of there..._

Len's laugh brought his attention back to the screen. _"You look like the proverbial drowned rat."_ Her gaze suddenly turned upward to meet the camera; her mocking smile graduated to a gloating smirk. _"What a pretty picture this will make for your darling Nathan."_

The snickering of the two men barely registered through the fury that was starting to make him see red. He was not even aware of the recording's end, too concentrated on resisting the urge to put his fist through the screen.

 _"Bridge to the captain."_ Tim O'Neill's voice broke through the haze of his roiling emotions.

"Yes?"

_"Incoming transmission for you, sir."_

He knew without asking who the transmission was from. She was no doubt calling to taunt him further. "Put it through to the ward room."

 _"Aye, sir."_ A moment later, the vid link lit up again. This time, Len was obviously back in the first room he had seen her in; he could tell because of the faint glow reflecting on her face. She nodded mockingly in greeting. Unable to find the words to express his anger, he settled for glowering in return.

After two minutes, Len finally broke the silent staredown. _"Funny, I was expecting a little bit more of a reaction to my gift."_ She put on a thoughtful air. _"Or is that the problem...I've left you speechless?"_

"You dare to torture a member of my crew and call it..." He was cut off by a sudden burst of laughter.

 _"Oh, such a wonderful display of temper."_ Recovering from her amusement, Len leaned a little closer to the screen and smiled craftily. _"It's just the two of us talking, so you can drop the pretense, Bridger. We both know you're in love with your precious Kristin. This isn't about a 'member of your crew'. This is_ personal."

"You're damn right it's personal!" Almost the instant the words were out of his mouth, Nathan realized his mistake at playing into her game. He was slightly surprised when the brunette nodded, though the mocking smile remained in place.

_"Now, was that little bit of honesty so hard to admit? After all, I am fully willing to admit my own motives are personal."_

"So it's about honesty, is it? Then perhaps you should enlighten me with a little of your own honesty." He folded his arms casually, trying to appear as if he'd calmed down and reminding himself that the longer the connection stayed active, the better the chance that O'Neill could trace the signal. "What's your reason for doing this?"

The smile changed to a hint of a smirk. _"But that would be too easy. Besides, you're supposed to have the best and the brightest under your command. Like Lieutenant O'Neill. I have no doubt that he's trying to trace this transmission; he won't succeed, however."_

"You demand honesty from me, but refuse to grant me the same courtesy. How is that fair, exactly?" Stating the obvious grated on his nerves. And the strange nagging feeling that he'd felt when he first laid eyes on her had resurfaced. He knew her from _somewhere_...but where? The glint of something metallic caught his eye, and his focus narrowed onto Len's hand as she tapped the item she held thoughtfully against her cheek. It was a metal hair clip, one he instantly recognized.

She shrugged casually and spun the clip through her fingers. _"All's fair in love and revenge, as they say."_

"Revenge?" he repeated. He knew she was playing him, distracting him with Kristin's stolen hair clip, and he urged himself to ignore her little game and keep her talking. "When I don't even know you?"

 _"Oh, but you do. Not personally,"_ she added, anticipating his next question. _"You may not have even heard my name mentioned. But you knew my..._ inspiration _...very well."_

Inspiration? What or who could possibly have inspired her to kidnap and torture an innocent woman? Shaking the idea away before his imagination could run away with it, he decided to change tactics. "You say you're after revenge; how about we make a deal? You've made it pretty obvious that I'm the one you want, so I propose that I trade places with Doctor Westphalen."

_"As tempting as your offer is, I'm afraid I must refuse..."_

"Name the time and place, and I will ensure that my crew does not interfere with the exchange."

Len smirked. _"The problem with your plan is that neither your crew nor the UEO would permit you to take your lover's place. And while having custody of you would be satisfying, it simply wouldn't be fitting."_

 _How can it not be fitting when I'm the one you want revenge on, damn it?!_ Nathan struggled to contain his growing frustration. He knew that she was right about the crew refusing to cooperate with any plan to trade himself for Kristin, not that he had expected Len to accept the offer in the first place. And she wasn't likely to walk into a trap, even with himself as bait. But there had to be some way to trip her up...

 _"As you once stole something precious from me, so I have done the same,_ Captain."

The sudden iciness in Len's voice brought his attention back to her in an instant. Her smug, superior air was gone, her pale eyes now glittering with malice.

"If your end goal is to punish me, then why not do so directly?" he demanded. Part of him wondered why he was even trying to reason with her, but worry for Kristin was overriding his common sense. "Why harm Doctor Westphalen when I am the guilty one? She's completely innocent in all of this..."

 _"You're delusional. No one is truly innocent. Everybody's guilty of something."_ With that retort, Len's image vanished, to be replaced with the transmission terminated screen.

Left with no other outlet for his renewed rage, Nathan slammed both fists down on the ward room table. He heard a faint snapping sound and sudden pain radiated through his left hand. Cursing under his breath, he gingerly felt along the affected area, wincing when he made contact with what he suspected was a fractured finger. _Nice going, Nathan_ , he mentally chided himself. _As if you don't have enough problems without breaking bones_.

Huffing a sigh, he left the ward room, not looking forward to the lecture Doctor Levin would no doubt have in store for him. Len's words rang in his head in a repeating loop; reinforcing both the guilt that had been plaguing him for the past two days and the odd déjà vu he'd felt the moment he'd laid eyes on her.

_"You knew my inspiration very well."_

Since he knew he had never met her, that meant she had to be referring to someone he had known. Her attitude, her expressions-all of it so strangely familiar...

_"As you once stole something precious from me, so I have done the same,_ Captain."

His title, spoken in that tone of derisive scorn. It was the first time Len had actually referred to him by rank, but he remembered all too well the last person who had addressed him in that exact same manner...

_"Everybody's guilty of something."_

And suddenly it all made sense.

 _Marilyn._ Her attempt at taking _seaQuest_ down over a year ago had failed. This time, she was striking out at him directly, probably assuming that he would be the one to fail this time. Even though she had yet to make herself visible, which surprised him a little, her accomplice would find out for herself that he wasn't the type to give up so easily.

 

(*)

 

Lucas scrubbed his hands against his eyes and glanced at the clock in the lower right corner of his computer monitor, realizing he'd been awake for going on thirty-six hours straight. The passage of time didn't surprise him; whenever he got involved in trying to crack codes, he usually forgot to sleep or eat. Normally it didn't bother him, but this time was far different and more serious: the Doc's life was at stake.

Oh, the other adults--including Captain Bridger--would have no doubt tried to reassure him that maybe the crazy woman who had taken her was only holding her for ransom and would let her go eventually, but Lucas knew better with his first look at the recorded footage. The coldness in her eyes, the hateful way she spoke of the captain; her intentions were crystal clear.

He had told the captain that he could handle it, even though the first recording he'd seen had disturbed him. He also knew that he _wanted_ to help, even before he was asked. Doc Westphalen had been there for him more than his own mother ever had. Plus, his technical knowledge and hacking skills were the best on the ship and he'd helped the crew with similar situations in the past. Now, he wasn't so sure.

Not because he doubted his own skills. Far from it. It was the images that were now burned into his mind; Doc being thrown into the water, the bastard pushing her down every time she tried to come up for air, Len standing over her laughing after they dragged her out. At one point, he had even wondered if watching it over and over might have been easier to handle if the insane brunette's goons had simply beaten her up. Even when he ran subroutines that took apart the video at the source code level, the audio would still play; it meant he still had to hear Len's caustic voice, the splashing, Doc's gasping for breath. The sounds made his own chest tighten, overwhelmed him with a sickening sense of vertigo. He bent his head into his shaking hands, trying to shut it out; but like the video, he could still hear it even with his eyes closed and his hands over his ears...

A muffled voice that came from somewhere behind him finally got his attention and he jerked his head up to see Ben Krieg standing in the doorway, a small box under one arm. He realized that Ben must have been calling his name. Embarrassed at being caught cowering like a little kid, Lucas shook himself and turned to face Ben. "Did you need something?"

But Ben didn't seem to hear him, staring past him with an expression of shock. Lucas belatedly realized that he was looking at the monitor and quickly reached back to shut it off.

"Is that..."

"Yeah." Lucas was in no mood to discuss it with anyone, much less Ben. "Now did you need something? I'm kinda busy right now."

Ben indicated the box under his arm. Lucas stared at it in confusion for a long minute before he remembered that the order he had placed two months ago for high-capacity memory chips and other spare parts for the vocoder handset. He waved a hand uncaringly in the general direction of his bunk. "Just...leave it over there."

The supply officer crossed the room and set the box down on the foot of the bunk, and then turned back to Lucas. "I also thought you might need someone to talk to."

"I don't have time to talk...and I don't want to, either," Lucas muttered. "Have to get this done anyway."

"Holding it all in isn't really going to help matters."

"Just go away."

"You need to talk to someone--"

"Haven't we had this discussion once before in the middle of a hurricane, Krieg? I'm _not_ a kid," Lucas snapped. "You don't need to coddle me with your morale officer act."

Ben appeared unfazed by the vitriol being thrown at him. "Maybe not. But I'm not here as morale officer. I'm here as your friend, Lucas." He leaned casually against the wall next to the bunk, hands in his jumpsuit pockets. "And since my talents don't lie in computers or communications or planning rescues, I intend to do what I _can_ do: which is to be there for my friends."

 _Who are you and what have you done with the real Ben Krieg?_ The sardonic thought flitted through Lucas' mind but he managed to keep himself from voicing it. He really didn't want to talk about it, and yet he wondered if it might help to actually do so.

"I feel like I'm not getting anywhere." The words came out before he could stop them and he half expected the response to be negative, or worse, patronizing. But Ben surprised him again.

"What makes you say that?"

"Because I've run that footage through my computer a hundred times using a dozen different programs and not one of them has found anything. It should have found something by now." Lucas threw up his hands in frustration.

"And are you running the same programs every time?"

"Well, yes and no. I've run each one multiple times and sometimes more than one. Like right now, I have two programs running on it. And without getting into complicated explanations, I can only say that I've tried every program that I have access to at least once...and nothing." Lucas sighed and shook his head. "Maybe she's right. Maybe her hacker is better than I am."

"I doubt that. And I'm not just saying that to make you feel better." Ben met the skeptical glance Lucas shot at him with an even look. "Sure, we know she's assuming that she has you beat, and her hacker probably does, too. But you know how to think outside the box, which is exactly why you're going to prove them wrong. And I'm also gonna tell you what I told O'Neill: let her _think_ she's winning all she wants. That'll be the very thing that trips her up." Pushing himself away from the wall he'd been leaning on, Ben paused to give Lucas a quick squeeze on the shoulder before heading to the door. "Now I'd better let you get back to it. Just remember, my door's always open."

Lucas found himself lost in thought for several minutes after Ben had departed. Like most of the crew, he often found the supply officer to be overly annoying. Once in a while, he was fun to be around, and of course, his constant scheming and the usually disastrous results made for a good laugh. But it was times like this that made Lucas glad to have him around, even if he couldn't yet believe his encouraging talk that everything would work itself out.

An insistent trilling beep coming from behind him distracted him from his musings. It got louder as it continued. "All right, already," he grumbled, spinning back around to face his computer and switching the monitor back on. He clicked his cursor on the flashing alert lighting up the taskbar and frowned curiously at what he read. The video showed traces of a transmission disruption? How had he not noticed this before?

Another flashing icon on the upper left of the program's window caught his eye and he clicked on it. A new window popped up, displaying data that showed that each time he had run the source code subroutines, it showed the exact same disruptions at the exact same moments. Lucas read the data carefully twice; there was no deviation in the times the disruption was recorded each time the subroutine ran, not even by a tenth of a second.

That meant it was likely more than just a glitch. An idea was beginning to occur to him as he hit the print command and waited impatiently for the printer to produce the pages he needed. There was only one way to see if his theory was correct. O'Neill needed to see this data and then he would suggest checking all of the transmissions Len had sent them. If this same disruption appeared in the others, it could be backtracked through the network and, quite possibly, to the source computer as well. The printer beeped to indicate its job was through and Lucas grabbed the pages, barely remembering to switch the monitor back off before running out of his quarters towards the Mag-Lev.

 

(*)

 

Len's eyes blinked open, staring into the dimness at the metal ceiling above her head. For a long minute, she lay perfectly still, not recognizing her surroundings. Where was this barren metal room? More importantly, why was she alone?

Then she remembered. She sighed and closed her eyes again. It had been a dream. She had actually dreamed without having to force herself into a state of unconsciousness. And it had been so real; she could have sworn Mari had been lying beside her. They had been lying in the hammock under a nearly full moon, the night before Marilyn had left for Jamaica to meet Le Chein. They had barely spoken, simply holding one another and treasuring the last hours before they would have to be separated for several months. Only, it had turned out to be an eternal separation. For a long minute, she could still feel Mari's warmth and the softness of her skin, hear the rustle of the palms above and the nearby hushed roar of the ocean. Now, she was left with only the memories and the intent to even the score.

The faint trembling of the floor beneath her brought her back to the present. She opened her eyes again, and smirked suddenly. Bridger's reactions the day before had been priceless; his pleading to be allowed to trade places with his lover quite amusing. Only an idiot would have taken that offer, and she was no idiot. Aside from the fact that what she'd said to him was true: it would have been satisfying, but not as much as the current satisfaction she was gaining from seeing him react to what his precious Kristin was enduring.

_But is it going to be worth it when you're done? Bridger will suffer for certain, just as he deserves, but it's not going to bring Mari home. And would she want you to go this far?_

Len scowled at the sudden pricking of conscience. She knew the answer to that. Yes, she would. Because her beloved wife would have done the same if their positions had been reversed. And she deserved justice. No one else was going to get it for her; no one but the one person who had loved her.

Turning to the monitor built into the wall next to her cot, Len keyed it on. Hack had set up a feed for her from the camera installed in the iso chamber where they were keeping Westphalen. The doctor was curled in a ball on her cot, sound asleep, her sweater draped over her torso in place of a blanket. The sight of her sleeping so peacefully fueled Len's ire. No doubt she was dreaming of Bridger and how he would soon come running to her rescue. Well, she was in for a rude awakening if she thought that she would have that luxury.

Switching off the monitor, Len sat up and pushed herself to her feet. Running her fingers through her hair, she quickly pulled it back and then tapped the audio link next to the monitor. "Walt."

_"Yeah, boss?"_

"You and Kamik get her and meet me below."

_"Got it."_


	9. 8 - All My Sins Be Justified

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N – A thank you goes out to fellow RLT member Kazu for his helpful insight on the final scene. Also, this chapter contains a scene with bloody and potentially triggering content. Not graphic or gory, but may still be disturbing to some readers, so I post a warning just in case.

**Chapter 8 ~ All My Sins Be Justified**  
  
  
  
Kristin barely heard the door slam, too absorbed in struggling to catch her breath. Each time she tried to steady her breathing, it degraded into yet another coughing fit and her chest ached from the exertion. On top of that, her whole body hurt from struggling against Walt's iron grip as he'd continually held her head under. This round had gone on longer than the first and she had nearly inhaled a lungful of seawater. Hypothermia was a major concern at this point and, if there was much more of this, the potential for pneumonia. After several more failed attempts, she was finally able to take in a few deep breaths. It helped to lessen the chest pain, but made the aching from the cold that much more prominent. Knowing she had to find some way to warm up, she slowly pushed herself to her knees and started to rise, only to lose her balance from yet another seismic tremor. Landing back on the floor was the last straw, and she suppressed the urge to scream, even as she pounded her fists against the floor out of sheer frustration; pain shot through her hands, putting a stop to the futile exercise almost immediately.  
  
Without any other outlet to express the sense of defeat trying to overwhelm her, she buried her face in her hands. But the tears that escaped were short-lived, more of a release that brought back the veneer of strength she'd been holding up since the moment she'd realized how dangerous this situation was. Rubbing a hand over her eyes with a weary sigh, she forced herself to take another deep breath before pushing herself to her feet again. This time, she succeeded. Making a circle of the room increased the chill she was feeling, and she paused by the cot long enough to pull off her dripping shirt, flinging it aside and replacing it with her now-dry sweater. She also kicked off her shoes and peeled off her socks. There was no way to change the rest of her clothes, unfortunately, but it was better than nothing. She continued to pace as she wrung the water out of her hair, and tried to ignore the violent shivers wracking her from head to toe.  
  
 _Don't think about being cold._ But it was futile; the movement of the air around her kept reminding her just how cold she was. Shuddering, she embraced herself and paused, remembering that moving around was a bad idea. The ground shook beneath her feet again, and this time, the quaking seemed a bit stronger. As routine as the constant temblors were, it still left her concerned about the structural integrity of her confinement. She turned to face the back wall of the chamber, studying the ceiling and upper walls. No doubt whoever had constructed this place had taken that into account or it would have likely collapsed into the ocean years before, but it didn't make her feel any safer.  
  
 _"You dare to torture a member of my crew and call it..."_ The sound of Nathan's voice behind her shocked her, and she spun around, only to see Len standing in the doorway. It took her a moment to realize the small, black box the younger woman had in her hand was some sort of recorder, as the only person with Len was Kamik. She barely noticed his presence, her attention riveted to Len and the audio emanating from the small speaker.  
  
 _"It's just the two of us talking, so you can drop the pretense, Bridger. We both know you're in love with your precious Kristin. This isn't about a 'member of your crew'. This is_ personal."  
  
 _"You're damn right it's personal!"_  
  
Kristin wasn't surprised by the fury she could hear in Nathan's voice throughout the entire exchange, nor did it surprise her to hear him suggest to Len that he would be willing to trade places with her. The well-being of the crew had always been one of his highest priorities and she knew he would be willing to put himself in harm's way for anyone under his command.  
  
Len clicked the recorder off. "You know, I'll give him credit where it's due. He was at least honest with me."  
  
Rubbing at her arms to warm herself, Kristin met her stare without saying a word. There was no way in hell she was going to dignify the baiting with an answer.  
  
"I am still puzzled by one thing, however. You're a smart, accomplished woman. Multiple degrees in various scientific fields, awarded for your recent breakthrough research in medicine. And yet you're willing to engage in a relationship with a murderer."  
  
"Nathan is _not_ a murderer--"  
  
"As much as I hate to shatter your rosy illusion of the saintly Nathan Bridger, the simple fact is that what I say is true. I may not have been there when it happened, but I know _what_ happened." Len's icy gaze pinned Kristin where she stood. "He shot down a defenseless woman in cold blood."  
  
Kristin didn't know what was more ludicrous: Len's insistence that Nathan was a murderer or the laughable idea of Marilyn Stark being defenseless. "You weren't there, but I was. That—tyrant—and her band of pirates attacked numerous colonies of innocent civilians, and she tried to sink _seaQuest_ in the process by planting that virus into the computer core. Perhaps you should explain to me how those are the actions of a 'defenseless woman'."  
  
“I'm talking about _after_."  
  
"After _what_??"  
  
"After seaQuest destroyed the Delta-4. It could have ended there. But _no_. Your lover wasn't satisfied with that victory. He wanted blood.”  
  
"That never--"  
  
" _Don’t_ bother denying it. He chose to order _seaQuest_ to hunt her down and drown her. Now he will know what it’s like to lose someone precious to him." Len turned and headed for the door.  
  
A new chill swept through Kristin. She knew in that moment that there was very little chance she would survive to escape this madwoman's clutches. Knowing her own death was imminent both frightened and infuriated her. "Do you even have any idea what sort of person Captain Stark really was?" she demanded to Len's back, her newfound anger making her ignore the inner voice telling her that speaking up was a very bad idea. "Not only was she willing to kill the entire crew of her former ship and those colonists, she very nearly plunged the world into war—and would have succeeded if Commander Ford hadn't stopped her. And for what purpose? To satisfy her own ego??"  
  
Len spun back around. "I know exactly what kind of person _my wife_ was," she hissed. "She fought long and hard to build her career, and that was after surviving growing up long enough to start that career. She also knew the way the world worked and wasn't afraid to face it—unlike her superiors. Yet when she stepped up and took the initiative, they called it treason. And that meant she was forced to take drastic measures to prove her point. But I wouldn't expect someone as arrogant as you to comprehend any of that, however."  
  
"Better arrogant than a common criminal," Kristin retorted. Pain exploded across her face in the next instant and she stumbled back from the force of the slap. She lifted a hand to her stinging cheek as Len stormed from the cell. Kamik raised an eyebrow at her exit, shrugged and then followed her out.  
  
Sighing, Kristin moved to sit on the cot, wincing as she felt along her cheek and jaw. When she was sure that all she would end up with was another bruise, she lay back, curling into a ball to conserve what warmth she could. Forcing herself not to think about how cold she was only made her inevitably fixate on the knowledge that Len intended to kill her over a lie, all because the younger woman believed that Nathan had murdered Stark.  
  
 _Nathan..._ His image drifted to the front of her mind, and she sighed again. She would never get to apologize to him for their stupid argument after Darwin's injury. If only she had done so before she'd left the ship for her shore leave...but it was too late now for regrets. All she could hope for was that, if she didn't survive this, he could find it in his heart to forgive her.  
  
  
 **(*)**  
  
  
Kamik had to catch the tunnel door on his way back into the main room before it struck him in the face. He closed it behind him and watched in amusement as both Walt and Hack stared at Len's moment of furious pacing.  
  
"You should not let her get to you," he remarked after he was certain that some of her ire had faded. When she threw him a glare, he raised an eyebrow in return. "And you certainly made your point—and put her in her place—at the end."  
  
A long moment of silence passed before Len finally spoke. "Yes. I suppose you're right, Kamik." He watched her visibly relax and breathed a silent sigh of relief.  
  
A trilling beep from the computer banks caught their attention and Hack spun around, quickly typing in a set of commands. He eyed his center monitor closely for several minutes and then typed in another set. When the result was three beeps in quick succession, he relaxed. "Damn that kid."  
  
"Hack, you had better make sure...."  
  
"Chill, boss. I got a handle on it. Just gotta keep on top of things." Hack smirked and spun his chair back around to face the others. "Besides, he may be a genius, but I'm older and more experienced. He won't succeed. _And_ should he come too close for comfort, I'm prepared." He tapped a box sitting next to the center monitor that contained a pair of chip drives. "Nice little set of viruses on these. Outdated tech, sure, but the benefit is using them leaves no trace on the system it's been connected to. All I'd have to do is attach the virus files to his attempt at breaking through, they'll be carried back along the connection between us and _bam!_   It'll bring his entire system down to the point that he'll have to rebuild from scratch. Now, I'd rather not use it because, regardless of what they say, even the most sophisticated virus can leave traces of origin. However, it's there if needed." He leaned back, putting his feet up on a nearby crate. "So...you really gonna kill her?"  
  
Len was staring out the window at the evening sky and its changing colors. "In the end, she will die, just as she deserves. You're not getting cold feet, are you?"  
  
Hack snorted. "Hell no. You're certainly paying well enough. Just wondering how far I'll have to go into hiding when all's said and done, since we'll all be ending up on the UEO's most-wanted list."  
  
"There are plenty of places to hide," Kamik pointed out. Len had moved away from the window, and he stepped toward it, glancing out at the reds and violets tinting the clouds that were slowly building on the horizon.  
  
"We'll be wanted, sure, but they're not going to put us on the most-wanted list," Walt interjected. "She's just a civilian scientist. She's not military, which means they won't care for long."  
  
"Military or not, she serves on the UEO's flagship. Do you really think Bridger and his crew won't raise enough hell to get a full investigation?"  
  
"And like I said, she's not military."  
  
"So?"  
  
"For as smart as you are, Hack, sometimes you can be a real idiot." Walt's disparaging tone made Kamik sigh inwardly in exasperation. Would they never stop their ridiculous squabbling? "To the military, civilians are second-class citizens. Doesn't matter if they work in important positions, they're considered expendable in the end. So they can make all the noise they want, and the brass will likely placate them by opening an investigation; but, in the end, it'll go nowhere. They're not going to care for that long, even if she is Bridger's whore. They have bigger concerns."  
  
Kamik wasn't surprised when Len barked at them both to shut up because they were giving her a headache. Hack turned back to face the computer monitors, effectively dismissing Walt. Walt glared at Hack's back before leaving the room, the door leading to the outside banging closed a few minutes later. Returning his attention to watching the clouds slowly moving towards the island, he didn't speak until he felt Len step up next to him.  
  
"You do realize that even if Walt is correct, and the UEO does not investigate, Captain Bridger will."  
  
Len smirked. "You're the last one I expected to express any doubts, Kamik."  
  
Kamik shrugged casually. "I am merely sharing my observations with you. Bridger does not strike me as the sort of person who gives up easily. Whether or not Walt's assumption about his superiors is correct will be irrelevant in his eyes; the fact that Doctor Westphalen is personally important to him will be his reason for pursuing justice."  
  
"Well, I wouldn't worry about Bridger. By the time I'm through with her and he sees the end result, it will bring him so low that he won't be able to pursue anything." Her smirk changing to a triumphant smile, Len turned away. "I'm going to bed. Hack, you know to wake me if necessary."  
  
"Right, boss. Night."  
  
The tap-tick-tap of Hack at work soon filled the room. Kamik tuned it out, studying the change of colors playing over the building clouds as they surrounded the distant rise of the volcano. A shuddering jolt under his feet distracted him, and he frowned. The tremors were strengthening. When he cast his gaze out the window again, he noticed what appeared to be a dark gray haze emanating from the peak before the clouds moved to envelop the mountain, and it disappeared.  
  
  
 **(*)**  
  
  
Twenty-one steps.  
  
That was the amount of room she had to move. Twenty-one steps to cross the length and another twenty-one to cross the width of the brig cell.  
  
Charli knew she should sit, but she couldn't stay still, despite her fear-induced exhaustion. She paced with arms folded, clutching the end of her braid like a lifeline. She could feel Ensign Stayton's eyes watching her every step. Given how he'd been eyeing her the entire time, he was no doubt expecting her to try to escape. But she knew there was no way out. The moment Chief Crocker had shown her that she'd ended up on the shop security footage obtained from NCIS, she realized that she had been caught. And trying to explain her side of things would have only made it worse.  
  
 _How could you be so stupid, Charli? You should have known Layla—no, her real name is apparently Len—was a liar_ , she chided herself. _Why would the UEO refuse to investigate a murder committed by one of its own officers? And how could I think that a research grant was worth helping her kidnap someone, even if the story had been true at all?!_  
  
When she had first met Layla Rhinehart, the last thing she had expected to become involved in was criminal activity. The quiet, unassuming brunette worked as head assistant to the oceanography professor who had been Charli's mentor for her entire time at CSU Long Beach. She had not spoken to her for anything other than school-related business until her senior year and the countless hours spent in Professor Kindon's lecture hall and labs. Layla had actually accompanied the students on their research trip to the Russian glaciers and had seemed just as animated and interested in all the work to be done. But when Charli had run into her in the ship's dining hall late one night on the trip home, she had seen a whole different side of the other woman. She had been seething, furious.  
  
Encouraging her to get it off her chest, Charli had learned that the cause was their brief rendezvous with a UEO ship when an engineering problem had cropped up. Layla, she learned, hated the UEO and, with a willing ear at her disposal, the whole story came out. Layla's best friend had been murdered by a UEO officer a year ago. Rather than investigate, the brass had claimed insufficient evidence and Layla's constant inquiries for a new investigation were subsequently ignored....  
  
 _"And I'm the only one that_ cares, _Charli!" Layla sighed and rubbed her eyes. "Mara's own parents don't even care. They never cared about her in the first place."_  
  
 _"Been there, heard that," Charli replied without thinking. At Layla's questioning look, she blushed. "Sorry, that was rude of me. I can't compare what I get at home with what happened to your friend. At least I'm lucky enough to be alive."_  
  
 _"No, that's okay." Layla's pale blue eyes fixed on Charli and she found herself unable to look away. "You listened to me; I'm happy to do the same."_  
  
 _And without meaning to, Charli ended up telling Layla about the mother who claimed that a degree based in environmental sciences was useless, the father who told his daughter that she'd never amount to anything, and the graduate internship that Professor Kindon was helping her apply for that wouldn't even impress them should her thesis proposal be approved. Layla listened, nodded, and asked a question here and there. She seemed particularly interested in the internship possibility, finally admitting that she was 99% certain that Mara's murderer was a current member of the seaQuest's crew..._  
  
When they had returned to LA, Layla seemed to distance herself from the subject, and Charli thought no more of it. They became friends of a sort, often having lunch together or Layla assisting with Charli's study sessions before exams. But it was in February of her senior year, a week after Charli had learned that she had landed the internship on _seaQuest_ , that Layla had approached her again with the subject of getting her friend's case reopened—and her plan to force UEO command to do so. The very idea of holding a member of the _seaQuest_ crew for ransom had been shocking and not at all something she would have expected to come from someone like Layla Rhinehart. Her suggested target was even more shocking....  
  
 _"You want to kidnap my future_ boss?!"  
  
 _"Keep your voice down," Layla hissed in annoyance. "This is not a conversation we want Professor Kindon to overhear. And why not her? She's not military, so she'll be easier to take. Westphalen's their senior science officer; they'll have to accept my terms to get her back. And it's just a ransom request for information. She won't be harmed, just detained until they reopen Mara's case and actually do something about it."_  
  
 _"What if they won't cooperate?"_  
  
 _Layla smirked. "They will. Unless they'd like the media camped out on their front lawns. I know someone at one of the major networks who has a story prepared to go to broadcast if they don't. If there's one thing military brass hates, it's bad press." Her gaze cut to Charli. "They'll never know you were involved...and I would make it worth your while."_  
  
 _"I don't see how that's poss—"_  
  
 _"You're going to need research funds once your internship is over. I can get you started...."_  
  
The low murmur of voices distracted her from her frantic thoughts and she looked up to see that Balducci had entered the brig. He shot her a look of disdain before turning to Stayton.  
  
"Chief sent me to let you know that the NCIS team is going to be here within the hour to take her into custody."  
  
Stayton nodded. "Good to know. Thanks, Dom."  
  
"Just watch out when they get here, though. Their team leader is majorly uptight." At Stayton's questioning look, Balducci went on. "She about bit Crocker's head off over the vid link about how he 'should have known from the start' that there had to be a person feeding the doc's kidnapper inside information. Of course, she was right, but she could have been more polite about it."  
  
Stayton rolled his eyes. "Geez if she's that way with the chief...." He looked across the room and into the cell at Charli.  
  
Balducci's gaze followed his and he shook his head. "It's not gonna be pretty for her."  
  
Charli glared at both men for a moment before turning back to her pacing. She knew they were trying to upset and intimidate her—and it was working. Even without Balducci's claim about the team leader, the idea of being interrogated by NCIS was terrifying. And yet, at this point, did the opinion of a stranger even matter? It couldn't be any worse than what the crew now thought of her.  
  
She shook her head, trying to shake away the images before they started, but it was futile. Every crewmember she'd passed in the corridor when they had escorted her to the brig had stopped and stared; most with shock or surprise, Lieutenant Krieg with open contempt, Alisha in sheer disbelief. Even Darwin, who had been swimming by in one of the corridor tubes, seemed to eye her with distaste for a brief moment. It had been humiliating and completely degrading; what was worse was she would have to endure it again when NCIS escorted her off the ship.  
  
The hand holding her braid tightened its grip unconsciously. It was a gesture she rarely thought about, a nervous habit born out of being constantly yelled at by her father for one reason or another. A sharp jab distracted her and she winced, opening her hand. The bruise that suddenly began to form under her skin brought a fleeting thought to the forefront. Could she even consider it? If it didn't succeed, it would just make things worse. But, on the other hand, what would be worse in the end—the looming interrogation, the surrounding fallout, the scorn of her parents, the end of her future as she knew it? Or simply putting an end to all of it?  
  
Even as each thought rose to the surface, she was slowly unclipping her braid. Her fingers worked at the hinge for several moments until she was able to snap the bottom half of the clip off. All her life, she had had to be extra careful not to injure herself; it was ironic that the knowledge she'd used to protect herself would now be used for the opposite purpose.  
  
She slowly pressed the sharp end of the now exposed hinge hard into her palm, watching the blood bloom to the surface in an almost detached manner, as if observing someone else. The cell seemed to fade away around her; her only anchor to reality was the sting of drawing the sharp edge up her arm, of making sure that Stayton and Balducci didn't pay her any extra attention. She kept her arms folded over, letting her shirt absorb the blood so it wouldn't be easily noticeable. With every step, the hateful sound of her parents' voices listing her faults echoed in her head; the angry faces of the crew flashed in front of her eyes. The final image that rose up was Kristin's and she closed her eyes against the sudden flare of guilt. _I'll never be able to tell her how sorry I am...._  
  
She could tell when the blood loss began to affect her. The lightheadedness and dizziness began to set in but she continued to pace as best she could. Every step was now an effort and she struggled against the vertigo creeping up on her. Her pulse was pounding in her ears, making it difficult to focus on moving. Against her will, the hairclip slipped from her grasp to land on the deck with a light pinging sound.  
  
"What was—what the hell? Look at her, Keith. She's gone dead white."  
  
"What's your problem, Barrett? You sick or something?"  
  
Charli slowly turned to look at the two men outside her cell. She stared uncomprehendingly at them for a full minute before finding her voice. "What are you...looking at?" She didn't realize until she spoke that she could only utter the words in a shaky whisper. Her knees buckled in the next instant and she dimly heard one of them yell her name as she hit the floor.  
  
"What the hell happened to her??" Balducci's voice seemed miles away even though she could dimly see him towering above her.  
  
"How should I know??" Stayton's voice was even farther away and he was hovering directly overhead. "You've been here with me for the last fifteen, you saw for yourse--holy hell, Dom. She's _bleeding_. How in the—"  
  
"She slashed her arm open somehow." A flash of pain shot up the arm in question when it was lifted up.  
  
"....impossible. She had nothing on her....brought her in. ...checked her myself."  
  
"Isn't....her hairclip?"  
  
"She used _that_?!"  
  
"Must have. See the blood here...hinge was?"  
  
 _"This...Crocker."_  
  
"Chief, Stayton here. We've...situation...."  
  
"This is Balducci...medical team...brig on the double...Barrett's bleeding out...."  
  
 _"Triage...we get there."_  
  
"Trying...not stopping it...."  
  
The rush of blood in her ears was getting louder and louder, drowning out Stayton and Balducci's voices, even as new ones joined them. But she couldn't understand any of them. They were all yelling at her and she wished they'd stop. The sudden glimpse of Kristin's face—how could she be here?—hovered in her line of sight. She seemed to be just out of reach. Uncaring of the impossibility, Charli fought to find her voice, to make herself be heard above all the noise. "I'm—sorry. Di...didn't know...she meant—to harm....you...." It was all she could say as the darkness encroached on what remained of her vision and her last vestige of strength finally gave out.


	10. 9 - Ascend to Fall

**Chapter 9 ~ Ascend to Fall**

 

"...absolutely cannot _believe_ you allowed this to happen!"

NCIS Special Agent Callie Moonin was practically spitting nails as she stormed in a half circle around main medbay. Jonathan was hard pressed not to roll his eyes and, if the look on the captain's face was any indication, he was even less pleased by her fit of temper. In complete contrast, Agents Brickey and Sovalik stood by the doorway, both wearing impassive expressions, as if they'd heard this all before. And they probably had, the first officer reflected dourly. He didn't doubt for a minute that this was her typical reaction when things didn't go her way during an investigation.

"I sincerely hope you intend to discipline the officers who permitted this to occur, Captain Bridger," Moonin snapped.

"That's already been taken care of by their direct superior." The captain gestured in Crocker's direction.

The security chief nodded in acknowledgment. "Their ears are probably still ringin'. Though I have to say, it's a mistake anyone could've made. After all, a lady's hairclip isn't your typical sharp object."

Moonin shot the security chief a pitying look. "You of all people should know that criminals will go to any means necessary." Before Crocker could respond, she rounded on Joshua Levin. "And you, Doctor. It took your trauma team less than five minutes to reach the brig, yet they failed to stabilize the girl. I suppose you have an explanation for _that_??"

"The explanation is quite simple, actually. Miss Barrett has—excuse me, had—hemophilia." Levin met the Aleut woman's disbelieving stare without flinching. "Since she was able to successfully injure herself and hide the evidence of it from the officers guarding her for a long enough period, the blood loss was severe enough to render her beyond medical help by the time the trauma team was called."

"You must be mistaken," Moonin scoffed. "Hemophilia is a disease that only males can inherit."

"I wasn't aware that you had a medical degree, Agent Moonin." Levin's voice remained even, but the edge in it was clear to everyone present. "While it largely affects males, a female _can_ be a hemophiliac if she is the product of a hemophiliac father and a mother who carries the defective gene that causes the disease. This was the case with Miss Barrett, and is clearly documented in her medical records. I'd be happy to provide you with copies."

Moonin turned to Crocker. "Were you aware of this, Chief Crocker?"

"No, ma'am."

Crossing her arms, Moonin fixed her glare back on Levin. "And I assume you have an answer for that too?"

Jonathan had had enough of her browbeating the others and cut in before Levin was forced to answer. "Actually, I think it's fair to say that no one here can predict the future, Special Agent Moonin. While this incident creates a problem for both you and us, I see no reason to lay blame based on information that would not have become public otherwise."

"Oh, you better believe it creates a problem." Dismissing Jonathan with a final glower, Moonin turned back to Bridger. "UEO command will be hearing about this incompetence, Captain Bridger. Furthermore, I hope you realize that this not only makes _my_ job harder, but, having lost the opportunity to properly interrogate the girl, we've also likely lost our only chance to succeed in rescuing Doctor Westphalen."

_Is she serious?!_ Jonathan watched Moonin and the captain stare one another down, and wondered if Bridger intended to voice any sort of rebuttal. But after a full three minutes of a tense silence, it was Moonin who finally broke the eye lock, looking more than a little uncomfortable. She attempted to cover it up by snapping orders at her agents—Brickey to acquire copies of Barrett's medical records, Sovalik to check with the other two agents on their team who had been assigned to collect the evidence from her quarters. Levin also had the required paperwork for releasing the body loaded on his tablet and, after Moonin had signed, he disappeared into the morgue.

"Commander." His attention was caught by the captain addressing him. "You and Doctor Levin come to the ward room when you're done here. There's something we need to discuss."

Jonathan nodded at the captain's words and watched him leave, then noticed Agent Moonin staring with narrowed eyes in his direction. He met her gaze impassively, pretending not to know why she was staring; she'd obviously heard what Bridger had said and was wanting the details. But even if he knew what the upcoming meeting was about, he wasn't about to give her the satisfaction.

 

**(*)**

 

Tim O'Neill was waiting in the ward room when Nathan got there. He was thankful for the young man's presence, as it distracted him from his anger at Agent Moonin's insinuations. "Mr. O'Neill. Were you able to find anything along the lines of what I asked you about?"

"Not much, sir," O'Neill admitted. "But one piece of evidence I did find was rather surprising." He keyed on the vid link monitor and tapped in a quick command to bring up the file in question.

Nathan stared for a long moment at the file displayed onscreen. "That _is_ definitely surprising." Shaking his head in amazement, he took his seat. _Can't believe I never knew about this._

"Sir?"

Realizing he'd voiced his thought aloud, he shook his head again. "Nothing." The communications officer nodded, clearing the file off the screen just as Ford, Crocker and Levin arrived.

"That woman, I swear to God," Crocker muttered, thumping himself down into the nearest available chair. "Worse'n a whole herd of mules. You know she tried to demand the reason why you called us up here? Ford had to tell her it was ship's business to get her to leave."

"What she doesn't know won't hurt her," the XO remarked as he sat down. "Unless whatever you called this meeting about will need to be shared with her later."

"Some of it, yes." Nathan glanced around the table. "You all know about the transmissions Len sent yesterday. The first transmission contained video footage showing Doctor Westphalen being tortured; she was thrown into a deep pool and repeatedly held under water. Immediately after I had viewed it, I received the second transmission, in which Len taunted me about what I'd just seen."

"She bother to tell you what this is all about yet?" the security chief asked.

"Not directly, but I did figure it out." Unable to remain still, Nathan rose from his chair and began pacing in a slow circle around the ward room table. "I've had a gut feeling from the beginning that all of this was meant as a way to strike out at me personally. Then something Len said confirmed it. Her parting shot before terminating the transmission was 'everybody's guilty of something'."

Around the table, confusion was written on every face except for one.

"Stark," Jonathan hissed.

Nathan nodded.

Jonathan shook his head in disbelief. "I can't believe she's back again."

"Actually, it's not Stark."

"Who else could it be, Captain?" Jonathan argued. "We were both present for that conversation. Those were her _exact_ words. She's obviously had reconstructive surgery and is using this new identity in an attempt to keep us off her trail."

"That thought had crossed my mind," Nathan agreed. "But then I did some more thinking, and after that, I spoke to Doctor Levin."

Joshua leaned forward, addressing the whole room, but his eyes were on the first officer. "Your suggestion has merit, Commander Ford, until you look at the whole picture, so to speak. Reconstructive surgery _can_ change a person's entire look, but there are some things that cannot be changed, no matter how much work is done. And facial recognition software can still pick up the subtleties." He keyed in a command on the vid link monitor's control, bringing up a split screen: the left side displaying Marilyn Stark's NORPAC file photo, while the right side displaying a screen capture of Len. Going up to the screen, Joshua pointed with his stylus at Stark's photo. "The space between a person's eyes can never be changed regardless of the amount of reconstruction done on the face." He moved the stylus point to the right side of the screen. "The facial recognition program I ran the images through confirmed that this is not the same woman, but as you can see, there is a significant difference even without it."

"How can you be so sure, Doctor?" Jonathan inquired. "I don't see any difference."

"I could explain the medical terminology, but that would take unnecessary time. Suffice it to say, I have studied the images extensively even after repeated scans with the software. Whoever this woman is, she is most definitely not Captain Stark."

"Then just who the hell _is_ she?" It was obvious from Jonathan's expression that he still was not convinced.

"I believe I can answer that," O'Neill replied. "Doctor, if I may?" He gestured to the screen and Joshua nodded as he returned to his seat. "At the captain's request, I did a little digging into the archives to see if I could find any connection. Captain Stark had listed only one person as her next-of-kin: a Lenore Haas." At a tap on the vid link, a new split screen appeared: the screen capture of Len now displayed on the left, while the right side displayed an archival photo of a brunette who appeared to be in her mid-20s. Her face bore a clear resemblance to the screen capture.

"Definitely not Stark," Crocker mused. "But if she was listed as next of kin...a relative, obviously. Sister, or maybe a cousin?"

"Much more than that, actually." O'Neill keyed in another quick command and the split screen was replaced with an image of a NORPAC dependent identification card. Everyone was stunned into silence by what the identifying information revealed, but it was Crocker who first broke it.

"Well, I'll be damned."

"I can't believe it," Jonathan muttered with a shake of his head. "I served with her for three _years_ , and I had no idea at all that she was married."

"I've known her far longer and I had no idea either," Nathan admitted. "But then, she was always an intensely private person, even as a midshipman."

"As I mentioned to you before, Captain, I couldn't find much," O'Neill remarked. "I actually did multiple searches and even ran a cross-reference using her nickname, Len. Outside of official files, this was the only other source I could find." He entered another command into the vid link and the screen changed again: this time to a two-page photo spread from the Navy Times, the headline congratulating "our newly promoted captains". Below the main image of the officers saluting the vice admiral, who had officiated the ceremony, was a series of candid photos; Tim zoomed in on the last image in the second row. Stark was instantly recognizable, her serious expression in complete contrast to the bright smile of the young brunette, whose arms were possessively wrapped around her waist.

After several long minutes of awkward silence, the communications officer finally broke it by clearing his throat. "Like I said, that was all I could find. I'm still having the computer run repeated archival searches, but I don't expect it to find anything it didn't find the first several times. But as you saw in the second file, Haas is also listed as Stark's spouse and had been granted full spousal privileges by NORPAC. This dates back to August of 2005. No longer active, obviously...." His voice trailed off and he shrugged.

"This is more than we had before," Nathan replied quietly. Shaking his head to clear it, he inquired, "I understand that Lucas was able to decipher something from the video footage?"

O'Neill nodded. "We're still working on it, but one of his programs discovered minute disruptions in the footage. Not enough to disrupt video or audio during viewing, but it showed up when he broke it down to the base code level. And it showed up each time he ran that program with no deviations in the disruption times." Reaching out, he touched the vid link to bring up a line chart on the screen. "This is a graph readout from Lucas' computer, showing five different times he ran the footage. You can see how the lines match up. When he showed this to me, he suggested that we check all of the transmissions we've received from Len to see if the disruptions showed up any other time. And sure enough, they did. Something on her end is causing these disruptions to show up in every transmission."

"And this will help us locate the doc?" Jonathan asked.

Tim nodded. "It'll take some time, but Lucas thinks he can back track the disruption to the source. At the very least, we may be able to narrow down where the source actually is. It's really a process of elimination, given the refraction subroutines she's been using to piggyback off the nearest communication networks."

The meeting adjourned after some discussion on a plan of action for when they located where Len was hiding. Crocker voiced his concern about going in blind, since they had no idea how many men she had working for her. Levin's main focus was finding out a way to ascertain Kristin's condition in advance, so he would be better prepared to treat her once she was rescued. He also requested a copy of the video footage from O'Neill, saying he intended to study it in order to determine what he could of how Kristin might have been affected by the torture.

Nathan remained after everyone else had departed. Pulling up the last archival image onto the vid screen, he studied it for several minutes. In the other candid photos, the newly minted officers were smiling or laughing along with their equally delighted family members. Marilyn had maintained her formal posture even on this occasion. The only hint of softening was the arm she had around the younger Len's shoulders, emphasizing that she was holding her wife just as closely as Len was holding her.

_Wife. How the hell did I miss that detail?_ He'd had occasional contact with her off and on over the years before _seaQuest_ , the most recent being when she'd asked him to sponsor her for the exams for officer's bars. Thinking back to that conversation, he realized that he'd done most of the talking after they had discussed her request for sponsorship. She'd asked him about the progress of _seaQuest's_ construction, if he had thought of any new design changes, how Carol and Robert were doing. She had said very little about herself and had not once hinted at anything personal. At the time, it hadn't registered as anything other than her usual reticence. Now, he was left to wonder: had he ever known the real Marilyn Stark? Or was Len the only one who did, even as she was now helping further her lust for revenge?

 

**(*)**

 

The quiet of sea deck was broken only by the faint lapping of the water against the walls of the moon pool. It was almost midnight; the late hour meant that there were few science crewmembers on duty. What little noise they made as they went about their work wasn't enough to carry out into the open area.

Nathan sat on the moon pool's edge, staring at the far wall without seeing it. He had initially come down for a swim with the intent of working off his frustration. But, once there, he realized he wasn't in the mood. Restless and reluctant to return to his quarters, he instead remained on sea deck, letting his bare feet dangle in the water and trying unsuccessfully to recover his calm.

After the staff meeting, he had made a call to the NCIS office in order to share the information regarding Len's identity. Moonin had taken the opportunity to lecture him again; this time, demanding to know why the information hadn't been given to her the minute O'Neill had discovered it in the archives. She had also repeated her claim that "failure to communicate about such important intel" was a hindrance to her investigation, once more hinting that such delays would likely spell failure in a rescue attempt. By the time he'd shut down the link, he was regretting even asking Bill to intercede with Captain Tillman. It would have been less frustrating to have gone about this on his own.

On top of the frustration of dealing with an intractable NCIS agent was the guilt. He had felt at fault from the start and, as the hours continued to pass, his regret became more profound. Kristin had been abducted--was being tortured—because of him. Because the last thing he'd said to her was to unfairly berate her for focusing her attention where it had needed to be; and because he had spent three days avoiding the subject instead of facing her and apologizing for his own stupidity.

_Of course, if I_ hadn't _been so stupid and argued with her over Darwin's injury, this wouldn't have even happened in the first place—because I would have been with her. They wouldn't have dared to lay a hand on her if I had been there._

The nudge against his ankle distracted him and he looked down at Darwin, who was floating next to his foot. Forcing a faint smile, he switched on the vocoder. "You're up late, Darwin boy."

_"Bridger up late too."_

"Well, that's what happens when you can't sleep," he replied wryly, leaning down to rub along the dolphin's melon.

_"Because Doctor Kristin taken from pod?"_

Nathan raised an eyebrow. "How do you know about that?"

Darwin bobbed his head. _"Lucas tell Darwin."_

That didn't surprise him. Next to himself and Kristin, the one individual Lucas would have felt comfortable confiding in was Darwin. "What exactly did Lucas tell you?"

_"Evil lady hates Bridger."_

That was putting it mildly. "Yes, she does. And we're having a hard time tracking her down."

_"Why?"_

"Unfortunately, she's very good at hiding."

_"Look under shadow rock. Dark sky is danger."_

He frowned thoughtfully. "Now what's that supposed to mean?"

_"Look under shadow rock. Dark sky is danger."_

"All I know is that we're running out of time. Because if we can't figure it out soon, Kristin may not survive long enough to be rescued." Nathan stared past Darwin into the water, seeing Kristin in his mind's eye—barefoot on the beach in the moonlight, her angry, hurt expression the day they had argued, fighting to breathe after being tortured. "And then I'll never get to tell her...." His voice trailed off into a heavy sigh.

_"Bridger loves Doctor Kristin."_ There was no questioning inflection in the translated words.

"Yes...I do." Admitting it out loud at this point made him feel like he had lost the chance that would have been there before. If only he had apologized to her earlier, or had listened to her in the first place the day of the incident. What if it was too late to make his feelings known, to tell her how much she meant to him?

From the moment he'd first laid eyes on her, verbally tearing into Jonathan, there had been something about her that had intrigued him. Bill was the one to drag him out of his self-imposed exile—but it had been Kristin who had made him feel like living again. She had become an important part of his life in such a short time. If, God forbid, he couldn't find her in time, would he be able to live with that failure?

He shook his head and sighed again. There was no point in dwelling on past what ifs. What he had to do was focus on the present; making sure that they could succeed in bringing Kristin safely home.

_"Bring Doctor Kristin back to pod."_

_I intend to._ Giving Darwin's melon a final rub, he pushed himself to his feet, feeling weariness settle over him. Maybe now, he could finally attempt to get some sleep.

 

**(*)**

 

Kamik leaned his arms on the window frame, staring out into the darkness in the direction of the mountain. The floor shook again and he glanced at his watch, mentally counting the minutes between tremors. For the last twelve hours, the tectonic pattern had abruptly changed: now it swung between short periods of many little quakes very close together and then long gaps of time without. And the first tremor after a period of no activity was always the strongest. Hack had nearly had a fit after the last one when the power had suddenly flickered. Thankfully, he was able to initiate a backup code saved for the event of a power failure and his system had remained online. He was still furious, however, because it wasn't five minutes after the near-power failure when he got an alert that his firewall setup was being attacked. He had successfully blocked said attack, but was still swearing under his breath over it.

"This is the second time. Gonna kill that damn kid...."

"Why don't you just send him the viruses and get it over with?" Walt demanded as he entered the room.

"Because the timing isn't right, that's why."

"If he's hacking your firewalls, it sounds like it is...."

"Shut up. I'll bring the little bastard down when _I_ want."

Rolling his eyes, Kamik turned away from the window. He had no intention of listening to them keep this up. "I am going to bed. And I would appreciate it if you two would keep your mutual tantrum down so I can have sufficient rest." Smirking in amusement at the glowers shot his way, he left the control room, more than ready to stretch out on his cot and let sleep take over. He strolled down the hall and was about to open the door to his room when the ground rocked again. This time, the jolt felt extremely strong and he had to clutch the doorjamb to keep himself upright.

_Five...six...._ The tremor faded before he could count to seven and he sighed in relief, even as the frown lingered on his face. If the seismic pattern was changing again so soon, it was definitely not a good omen. He debated waking Len to inform her of his suspicions, and yet wondered if she would even listen. She had been acting strangely all day and had even turned in long before sundown; usually, she was the last one to go to bed.

Crossing the hall to her door before he could change his mind, he tapped on it lightly, deciding that if she didn't wake up to a soft knock, he would just speak to her in the morning. But her voice bid him to enter. Stepping inside, he found Len standing by the window. In her hands was a digital photo frame and he recognized her wife in the image. She was in dress uniform, a flowering tree providing the perfect backdrop of color. Her bright smile lit up the image, lightening the severity of her posture.

"What is it, Kamik?" Len didn't look up, her attention solely focused on the photo as she brushed her fingertips over the smile of the blonde on the screen.

Disturbed by her demeanor, he decided now was not the time to bring up his suspicions about the seismic activity.   "The boy has almost broken through Hack's firewalls twice. He has resecured the network, but they may yet locate us."

"Even if they do, it won't matter."

"You realize that once Bridger finds us, he will seek his revenge."

"He won't."

The dull monotony in her voice made Kamik wonder if she was more tired than she looked. "How can you be so certain?"

She cast him a brief glance out of the corner of her eye. "You surprise me, having doubts."

"Not doubts," Kamik replied, leaning against the wall and eyeing her as her attention returned to the photo she was cradling. He watched her hand continue to trace lovingly over the image. "But I do feel that underestimating our enemy is unwise."

"And how am I doing that?"

"You yourself are doing this out of love for your late wife. Why do you believe that Bridger will do no less for Doctor Westphalen?"

"My situation is different from his." Kamik raised an eyebrow in puzzlement as she continued. "Once I have achieved my goal, I will be able to have solace knowing that Mari has been vindicated. But for Bridger, this will be all too familiar territory. I'm sure you know that his only child followed in his footsteps, only to be killed in action in his first year of service. It's why Bridger himself left the military seven years ago. Took off to some remote island and all but disappeared from sight, cutting off all contact with the outside world. It was during that time that his wife also died. Fell ill during a massive storm and since there was no way help could get to her, she didn't make it. Or so the rumor goes," she added with a careless shrug.

"I still do not understand why you believe this would prevent him from desiring his own revenge."

"Because the psyche can only tolerate so much strain before it's broken irreparably. One might have thought he was already broken at that point. But it seems there was still some resolve left in him, or else he wouldn't have been convinced to rejoin the military. So he returned to the real world, took back his ship—and even found himself a new paramour. A little surprising, to be honest. Men like him usually remain faithful to the memories, never attempting to seek out a second chance. In fact, I'd even venture to guess that his sweet little doctor is the first person he's opened his heart up to since those losses." She lifted her head to meet his gaze and the smile that suddenly formed on her face unsettled him further. "And _that_ , Kamik, is precisely why I will succeed. This will be the very thing that finally breaks him. Her death will so thoroughly devastate him that the self-blame will eat him alive. He won't have it in him to pursue anyone. Not even me."

Unable to find the words to respond to that, he simply nodded. Len's smile slowly faded and she turned to look out the window into the night. Another intense vibration rocked the floor again and he reached out to hold onto the window frame as a precaution. Len took no notice of the quake, her gaze fixed on the darkness outside. "Hack needs to hold off until after the final session, which I intend to be soon. After that, he can do whatever he wants because....I'll have the results that I want."

"I will let him know."

"Good." Her attention returned to the frame in her hands and he knew the conversation was over. As he left Len's room to return to his own, he knew that, despite the need for sleep, there would be none to be had. The instability he had glimpsed in her eyes was second only to the force that shook the land beneath their feet. And sooner or later, he knew that power would emerge with an unholy vengeance.

 


	11. 10 - A Fire Fading

**A/N: Many thanks to the lovely Scorp for assisting with crucial villain dialogue and also to Vici, my expert in all things O'Neill, for a second set of eyes on parts of his dialogue.  
**

**Also, the opening scene in this chapter contains potential triggering content. Non-graphic as always, but the warning is here regardless.**

**  
**

**Chapter 10 ~ A Fire Fading**

 

The cold had a tangible grip, its weight sapping her strength and adding further to her exertion. Kristin kicked frantically at the frigid water that surrounded her, trying desperately to propel herself upward. But no matter how hard she fought, the hand twined into her hair twisted it painfully in combination with forcing her further beneath the water. Her chest was aching fiercely, her ears ringing; every second that passed adding to her panicked terror.

 _She had to breathe!_ At that moment, she thought she felt the grip on her hair lessen; she kicked harder, bursting to the surface almost instantly. Disoriented and drained, she was in the midst of drawing in a much-needed deep breath when she was abruptly shoved underwater once more. The move caused her to inadvertently breathe in water, the salt stinging her sinuses. Her panic renewed itself twice over and she redoubled her attempt to surface—but no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't break free. Exhaustion and the cold were weighing her down, and the continued struggle began to seem futile.

She had spent what felt like days drifting in and out of a fitful doze, ever mindful of the knowledge that the hypothermia was growing worse. She knew that from the muscle spasms that came and went, as well as the disorientation she had been experiencing for the past several hours. She also knew that she couldn't allow herself to fall fully asleep even though she craved it. That reminder was the one thing anchoring her to reality.

She had no idea what time it was when she was rudely awakened by being hauled to her feet. Dazed from constant shivering and the chill that had consumed her, her struggles against her wrists being bound or being dragged out of her cell were minimal. She had been dimly aware of how difficult it seemed to put one foot in front of the other, of how her balance kept wanting to fail her. It wasn't until the ground jolted sharply beneath her feet that she came fully to her senses. She barely registered Walt's usual cursing against nature in response; her attention riveted to Len's sudden presence, to the slapping of water against bedrock and the sight of the pool looming mere meters away. She tried in vain to drag her feet, even to break free of the hold Walt had on her arm. But instead he delivered a brutal kick to her ankle. She yelped and stumbled, and he took the opportunity to haul her the last remaining distance to throw her into the water.

When the pulling grip suddenly dragged her upward and her head broke the surface, she tried again to catch her breath—only to be once more thrust underwater. The searing pain of inhaling seawater once more consumed her and all of her remaining strength suddenly gave out as unconsciousness attempted to overwhelm her. Only the bite of icy air on her face made her realize that this latest round of torment had finally come to a stop. Even as they were lifting her, she was vomiting up the water she'd inhaled. It burned her throat, her nose—and, even when there was nothing left to expel, her lungs still burned. She closed her eyes against the vertigo, and it took two full minutes for that to settle the heaving. She cried out weakly at the sudden return of the painful grip on her hair, and she felt more than heard Len lean down over her.

"How does it feel, Kristin?" Len's fist tightened a fraction. "How does it _feel_ to struggle for air, to feel the pressure crushing your lungs, to know that _every breath_ might be your _last_?! Well, that's what Mari felt. Except, thanks to your darling Nathan, she didn't get any sort of reprieve." She let go suddenly, and Kristin winced as her cheek smacked the cold ground beneath her.

"Get her out of here. I can't stand the sight of her any longer."

Kristin was barely coherent as she was roughly dragged back to her feet. Walt and Kamik practically had to carry her back to her cell because she stumbled with every step. She was almost grateful when they made it, even though they all but tossed her down. But at least when she was still and kept her eyes closed, the world wasn't spinning around her.

"...much longer, do you think?" Kamik's voice was like a distant echo but she could make out what was being said if she focused.

"Len can't decide...do it. Only...slow—and she wants Hack...live feed....so Bridger has to watch."

"Too bad...only die once, hm?"

"True. But if Hack can get...set up...like a thousand times to Bridger...." Their combined laughter echoed dimly before it was cut off by the door slamming.

 _Dear God, please let them find me!_ She knew at this point that the chances of the crew rescuing in time were slim to none; even in her debilitated state, she couldn't stand the thought of allowing herself to give up. But the ache in her chest was now unbearable, which was only exacerbated by how cold she was—and she couldn't get in a proper deep breath. How much water had she aspirated? Enough to make things worse, she knew that much.

Overwhelmed by a sudden wave of dread that distracted her from her struggle to breathe, she forced her eyes open. Len was hovering over her, so close that her presence seemed to dominate the cell. She squeezed her eyes closed again, hoping that Len was merely a hypothermia-induced hallucination. But the other woman's soft words made her realize that it was no delusion.

"Don't think you're going to get away with simply succumbing to hypothermia, my dear. You're not going to escape that easily—and neither is your murdering lover. I'm going to destroy him, as well as his misguided sense of morality, once and for all. You'll be taking one last swim...but this time you won't be coming back up for air. He'll get to watch as the last breath is crushed out of you and the life fades from your eyes, knowing that you are paying the price for his crimes. And just as I'll never be able to sleep without seeing Mari suffer, so shall he carry the same burden—which is the _least_ that he deserves for what he's done."

As the faint sound of retreating footsteps faded, Kristin tried to shift herself out of the puddle she was laying in, but it hurt too much to move more than a couple inches. The endeavor also instigated another violent coughing fit, and that pulled painfully at her still bound arms. When it finally ended, she found that breathing seemed increasingly difficult; each attempt more fatiguing than the last. Unconsciousness was beginning to pull at her again and, this time, she knew she would not be able to overcome it.

 _Nathan was right...should have let him know about Darwin....if only I had admitted I was wrong...._ It was foolish to dwell on what ifs, but she couldn't stop them from floating to the forefront of her thoughts. She would never again talk to Katie, watch Lucas play with Darwin, hug Cynthia. And she would never be able to tell Nathan that she loved him.... Regret at that last realization welled up and triggered another round of coughing; the ache in her chest becoming more excruciating with each convulsion.

"Nath...forgive me...." The whispered words faded into silence as the darkness rose up to consume her.

 

**(*)**

  

_Gray light filtered through an overcast sky down on the land that spread out before him. A distant peak loomed on the near horizon, its snowcapped visage overshadowed by the larger clouds creeping up behind it. Much closer was the aging tower, standing alone over the abandoned runway it had once been companion to. The only sign of its advanced age were the faint cracks that had spread spider-like around the base. Yet he instinctively knew that those cracks were merely superficial, that they would not cause the tower to fall. This was not the true danger.  
_

_The light began to abruptly fade and his sixth sense made him turn his attention back towards the mountain. The clouds around it had turned dark, forbidding—rolling forth to cloak the peak, and then flowing down its side in a wave....which unexpectedly increased in speed, heading straight for where he stood. His feet remained frozen to the spot; but even if he could move, he knew there was no point in trying to outrun it. The darkness loomed over the tower, swallowing it before moving directly towards him. As the clouds surrounded him and blotted out the remaining light, an oppressive chill overwhelmed his senses. He tried to breathe, but the raw cold had wrapped an iron fist around him and, combined with the weight of the darkness, made breathing an impossibility...._

 

A faint, insistent chirping brought Nathan abruptly back to his senses. He shivered and stared into the dimness, disoriented by both his surroundings and the dull aching in his chest. Recognizing his quarters, he sighed and closed his eyes again, realizing that he had been dreaming. As he lay still, forcing himself to breathe slowly and deeply, the ache began to fade and, in moments, was gone as if it had never been.

 _But if it was just a dream, why am I still so cold?_ The chirping sound caught his attention again and he reached for his PAL where it lay on the shelf behind his head. "Bridger," he murmured, rubbing his arm with his free hand as another shiver coursed through him.

 _"Sorry to wake you, Captain."_ O'Neill's voice echoed through the line. _"But we received another transmission...."_

"I suppose she wants to talk only to me again," Nathan muttered, rubbing a hand over his eyes and glancing at the clock. 0414. _  
_

_"I don't believe it's a message from her. The source is definitely hers, but...well....it will be easier if you can see it for yourself."_

"I'll be up there shortly."

 

**(*)**

 

Twenty minutes later, Nathan stepped off the Mag-Lev and onto the bridge, still shivering. The chill that he'd felt in his strange dream continued to linger, no matter how much he tried to ignore it. Resisting the urge to rub his arms again, he headed straight for the communications station. O'Neill turned in his chair at his approach and nodded a greeting, then narrowed his eyes in concern. "Are you all right, sir?"

"I'm fine." He ignored the skeptical look the younger man shot him. "Now what did you mean by the source is the same, but you don't think it's a message from her?"

"Every transmission from her thus far has been through the vidlink. This one, however, is text only—and it was originally encoded as well, but with a rather simplistic encoding. Took only five minutes to decode and this is what it contained." Tim gestured to the main communications screen and the text it currently displayed.

Nathan focused on the small screen and frowned in puzzlement. "What language is that?"

"I'm almost positive it's Aleut."

" _Almost_ positive?" The question came out a little sharper than Nathan intended, but O'Neill continued with his explanation before he could attempt to apologize.

"The problem with a lot of Native languages is that there's no complete lexicon available because they are passed down orally from one generation to the next. Now I did run the text through a cross-reference against all available content in the linguistic databases to Aleut as well as its related dialects—Inuit, Yupik, etc.—to be certain. But the closest matches for most of the words syntax-wise coming back in the results appear to be Aleut. Unfortunately, what I have is probably an incomplete translation, and with questionable accuracy."

"I'm sure you did the best you could with the resources available. What did you come up with?"

Tim tapped in a command, bringing up a split screen of text—one side displaying the original, the other his translation. He trailed a finger across the screen as he read the translation aloud:

"If the darkness is not stopped, it will devour the soul,  
No power of _Kusuuginax_ will end it.  
The struggle will not last,  
A fire fading."  


Nathan stared at the text for a long moment before shaking his head in confused frustration. "Now what the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"It doesn't make any sense to me, either. However, this transmission _did_ provide us with one important clue: a possible location of where Len is hiding out at."

"You were able to successfully back trace it this time?"

O'Neill shook his head. "The clue is in the text." He tapped the screen with a finger. " _Kusuuginax_ —the only word I couldn't find a translation for. It took me awhile to realize that it was a _name_ , not a word, and when I entered _that_ into the database...." He gestured with one hand towards the main viewscreen while keying in another command with the other. A map of Alaska and the Aleutian chain filled the screen. A small red star blinked rapidly on the western end of the island string before the image zoomed in to display a single island of an irregular shape that vaguely resembled a shark. " _Kusuuginax_ happens to be the Aleut name for Mount Tanaga, a dormant volcano on the island of the same name."

"Tanaga Island is part of the Andreanof group," Miguel Ortiz spoke up from the sensor station, picking up where the communications officer had left off. "There is always constant mild seismic activity occurring, but according to historical records, the last actual eruption was in 1914." He flipped a switch, changing the map to an overhead view of the mountain, while the accompanying topographical and geological statistics scrolled beneath it.

"That seismic activity is likely the reason for the disruptions Lucas' software picked up from the prior transmissions," O'Neill interjected. "Minute enough not to show up on the video or disrupt the audio playback, yet it was picked up by the source computer during the initial transmitting."

"Tanaga's uninhabited, minus a couple Aleut villages on the far eastern side," Ortiz continued. "However, historical records also mentioned that, during World War II, the Navy built an emergency landing strip for pilots on the island. In 2003, NORPAC reopened and expanded the facility as an adjunct to their base on nearby Adak Island." The map shifted to display the southern half of the island, with a blinking star indicating the aforementioned location. "The expansion included refitting the existing structures, as well as adding a laboratory building for the use of NORPAC scientists. That building was actually constructed half above, half below the water line. Everything was eventually moved to Adak Naval Base permanently in 2009."

"Are there any images of the base in the historical archives?"

O'Neill nodded and tapped in a new command on his console. The image that replaced the map on the screen sent a new chill down Nathan's back.

"That's it," he whispered.

"Sir?"

Nathan didn't hear O'Neill's question, his gaze riveted to the image displayed on the viewscreen. The runway stretched out from right to left in the center of the photo, its control tower standing sentry behind it. In the far distance, behind the tower, a snowcapped mountain loomed on the horizon, its peak shrouded with a thick layer of clouds. Except for the newness of both tower and runway in the photo, it was the very image from his dream. "Mr. O'Neill, is Tanaga Island within the disbursement radius of the communication networks Len has been using?"

"Well within that area, actually."

"Then that's where she is. Contact Port Anchorage authority and tell them we're requesting immediate departure." O'Neill nodded and immediately turned to his console. "Mr. Ortiz, transfer the coordinates of Tanaga Island to navigation."

"Aye, sir."

Despite the little sleep he'd had, he was now wide awake, the prospect of finally having a solid lead energizing him. It would take a good six to eight hours at top speed to reach the island if the currents were with them; more than enough time to prepare for what was to come. O'Neill addressing him again distracted him from his thoughts. "Yes?"

"We're cleared to depart, but shouldn't we contact the NCIS office before we do? I thought Agent Moonin and her team were supposed to accompany us once we had determined Len's location."

Nathan shook his head. "It could take them an hour or more to get here; I'd rather not cause us further delay when it will take most of the day to get to the island." _And Kristin may not have much longer._ He tried to chase away the horrifying thought; his gaze returning to the viewscreen and the archival image of the control tower still displayed there, fixing on the visage of Mount Tanaga in the background. For a moment, he remembered the dark wave from his dream flowing down the mountain and the dread that recall brought made him shiver once more. When he glanced back at the viewscreen, the image had been removed. But the memory of his dream continued to linger, shadow-like, on the edge of his thoughts as he forced himself to focus on watching the bridge crew prepare for their departure.

 

 


	12. 11 - Amor Vincit Tenebrae

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Extra thanks go to two great people in addition to Darkin for their immense help with this chapter – Story (bkwrmnlvnit) and my fellow local NaNo groupie Chautona. Thank you both so much for listening to me and helping me navigate through the continual episodes of writers' block these past couple weeks!

 

 

**Chapter 11 ~ Amor Vincit Tenebrae**

 

_Eastern edge of the Andreanof Islands - 0950 hours_

 

The air of tension on _seaQuest's_ bridge was palpable. Absent was the occasional light chatter between crewmembers at neighboring stations, or over the headsets. Near silence had taken its place, everyone focused on their consoles or on the main viewscreen and the expanse of deep blue without. The entire crew shared their captain's worry about what was to come; they all knew what was at stake.

"ETA, Mr. Ortiz?" Nathan forced himself to keep his voice level, not wanting his anxiety to show in his words. He knew it wasn't likely that the others were buying it, but he continued to maintain his best attempt at a calm demeanor out of habit.

The sensor chief keyed in a quick command and glanced over the data results. "We're coming up on the edge of Amlia Island. About two and a half hours to Tanaga."

He nodded his thanks and resumed pacing. He had taken to wandering a wide circle around the bridge, pausing on occasion to glance at the viewscreen. The action was as much a way to kill time as to distract him from the lingering chill, which had continued to persist despite the passing hours. He would have ordinarily written it off as merely his building trepidation, except for the dream. Given that the images in his dream had proven true, did that mean that the physical sensations reflected some form of reality as well?

Suppressing another shiver, he paused by the engineering station. Hitchcock glanced up, sensing his presence. "The engines are pushed to their limit," she reported. "Luckily, the currents have been with us so far, but if we hit any rogues, we'll have to dial it back."

"I understand, Commander." He silently cursed the inner panic as he turned to walk away, the panic trying to tell him that top speed wasn't enough, that it _wouldn't_ be enough....

"Sir?"

He turned back to face her. "Yes?"

"We'll make it in time." Her bright blue eyes bored into his. "I know she's been put through hell, but she's strong. She'll get through this."

"Captain, we've got an incoming transmission."

He jerked his head around at O'Neill's interruption, a frisson of unease rising up. Had Len somehow detected that they were closing in on her location? "Source?"

Tim keyed in a fast command on his console, then turned back to face him. "It's the NCIS office at Elmendorf-Richardson."

Nathan sighed, partly in relief, partly in exasperation. He was in no mood to deal with Agent Moonin, but even so, he had known she was bound to contact them. _I'm surprised it took her this long._ "Put it through."

A moment later, the main viewscreen lit up, revealing the furious face of Callie Moonin. Her eyes were bleary and she was impatiently attempting to braid her rumpled hair into some semblance of order. Her hands dropped from her hair, however, once she realized that the link was active; a glower forming as her gaze settled upon the captain.

"Agent Moonin." He clasped his hands behind his back, keeping his expression calm. "What can I do for you?"

 _"I have just been informed by Agent Brickey, who was informed by Port authority, that you set sail over_ four hours _ago! Would you care to explain why you've disobeyed my order??"_

Nathan raised an eyebrow at the last word of her tirade. "I'm not under your command, and neither is my boat. I apologize for neglecting to inform you but we have an important lead."

_"And that is why you were to inform me! It is my job to investigate any and all leads in this case."_

"I'm sure you can appreciate that time is of the essence in abduction cases—"

 _"I_ know _that! But so is prudent planning! Do you have_ any _idea what you're walking into, Captain? Did the person who gave you this lead also give you any actual, confirmed intelligence of the location, or how many you're going up against??"_

"The information they uncovered is sound and I trust their intelligence, which is why I gave the order to launch." He wasn't about to give her the satisfaction of mentioning the encoded transmission, and had no intention of mentioning O'Neill's part in it.

_"So you're going to blindly walk into what could very well be a setup?!"_

"And if that happens, then the responsibility will be mine, not yours—"

_"The fact remains, Captain Bridger, that you are still ignoring investigative protocol! And did you not request our assistance in the first place? Yet you and your crew have continually failed to cooperate—"_

Nathan forced himself to count to five before interrupting her. "I'm sorry that you feel we haven't cooperated well enough with you and your team. But the bottom line is, I will not risk Doctor Westphalen's life on what-ifs." Catching O'Neill's eye, he gestured for him to terminate the link.

 _"If you think—"_ Moonin's threat was cut off mid-word as the link was severed with one flick of a switch.

Nathan sighed inwardly and resumed his pacing. He half-expected Moonin to immediately attempt contact again, but, to his surprise, the link remained silent. Another shiver suddenly gripped him and, with it, a faint tightening in his chest. Why the sensations were continuing to plague him, he didn't know. He forced himself to ignore them, but couldn't ignore the persistent dread that was growing with every passing minute.

_We're almost there, Kristin. Just hold on a little longer...._

  
**(*)**

 

_Lash Bay, Tanaga Island - 1315 hours_

 

Crocker listened hard for a long moment, but could hear nothing beyond the muted swish of the waves hitting the rocks somewhere off to the right. He gestured to the others and, one by one, they slipped on silent feet out of the launch. Mars, Olden, and Dietz were first. Carlton and Dexter followed right behind, with Nathan and Doc Levin on their heels. Carasi and Briggs came last, accompanied by Braeckman, Levin's assistant. He had debated with himself for a while about how many of his people to bring along, but finally decided it was worth the risk to have too many rather than not enough. And once they found Doc Westphalen, having an extra man or two to cover her retrieval would be beneficial.

Crocker knew he could trust the two medical officers to stay back out of the line of fire, but Cap was another story entirely. He hadn't even bothered to argue when Cap had showed up in the launch bay; any attempt he could have made would have been pointless. He knew better than anyone just how stubborn his friend was. At this stage, he could only hope that they found the Doc in one piece, for he feared the reaction if they did not.

The fact that they were going in almost totally blind aggravated the security chief to no end. There had been little in the way of confirmed Intel, so he had no idea how many they were up against. Len had done her damndest to cover her tracks. To make matters worse was all the damn fog floating around. Not only did it make it impossible to spot any opponent within range, it was giving him the creeps.

The ground suddenly rocked beneath their feet, catching them all off guard. Dexter and Olden both swore under their breath and Braeckman stumbled, but Levin caught her elbow, preventing her from falling. A second tremor came only a moment later but everyone managed to remain on their feet. Crocker squinted into the gloom, attempting to pinpoint the locations of the old buildings he knew stood there. He literally bumped into the nearest one and braced himself against the wall out of habit. Feeling his way to the edge, he cautiously peered around the corner, weapon at the ready. He could make out little but the shadow of a neighboring building and the gravel pathway that disappeared into the curtain of fog about thirty feet ahead.

He was about to lead the team out onto the pathway when he realized that his bracing hand was touching cold metal. Glancing down, he noticed that his fingertips rested on the outer edge of a circular object embedded into the stone wall. Scowling, he backed up a step and knelt down next to where he'd been originally standing to study it more closely. The closer look confirmed his suspicions: a high-grade motion sensor. From his current angle, he could see that the sensor panel itself was in the exact center of the device, which hopefully meant he hadn't tripped it. But where there was one, there were no doubt more—and finding and avoiding them in this fog was going to be stickier than molasses in winter.

"Gonna need to step careful, people," he said in quiet tones over his shoulder. "We might've tripped one already, but keep a look out. We don't want to lose the element of surprise if at all possible."

He and Olden led the way, moving slowly along the walls from one building to the next to locate the sensors; the others following behind after one or the other of them had declared an area clear or found a way to detour around the sensor. The nagging feeling that they were going to miss spotting one continued to needle at him, but he reminded himself that the fog would hinder the enemy as much as it was already hindering them.

A sudden breeze picked up, causing the fog to swirl and clear in places. Olden pointed out yet another motion sensor and, as it was placed at eye level, they all were able to duck to avoid it as they approached the next building. A sharp indrawn breath behind him made Crocker turn to look at Nathan, and he was immediately alarmed by the paling of his friend's face. Mars and Briggs had noticed the direction the captain was looking in and both had their weapons at the ready. Crocker followed Nathan's gaze and realized that what he was seeing through the thick mist was an old aviation control tower, the cement walls webbed with numerous cracks.

"Don't think it's stable enough for anyone to be up in there, sir," Briggs commented after a hard look up at the observation window.

Crocker nodded in agreement, casting a last glance upward before the fog thickened and swallowed the tower again. He turned his attention back towards the building they were approaching, noticing that it seemed to be in better condition than most of the others. Olden was a few steps ahead of him and he crept along the edge of the wall to the window, listening a moment before attempting a glimpse inside. The foggy silence was shattered in the next instant by a trio of shots that cracked through the glass.

"Down! Down!" Crocker yelled. In an instant, his team had spread out in a defensive half-circle around the captain, Levin and Braeckman, the wall at their backs. Olden had ducked in time to avoid being hit and had already scuttled beneath the window and to the nearby door. Briggs was on his heels and she slid past him to take up position on the other side of the door. They shared a glance before Olden nodded. Briggs reached up her hand and gave the door handle a quick twist, letting it swing open of its own accord. Another barrage of gunfire followed, some hitting the door, the remainder shattering the window. As one, Briggs and Olden turned and fired two shots each through the doorway, ducking down again as whoever was inside returned fire.

"How many?" Crocker demanded over his shoulder, keeping his eyes on the swirling fog in front of them should anyone attempt to come at them from one of the other buildings.

Olden dared a glance past the door frame to fire again, then pressed himself back against the wall. "Male subject, two o'clock! Taking cover behind a desk!"

Briggs edged closer to the doorway. "No one else visible—" She suddenly ducked back with a yelp as the next shot from within struck the door frame within inches of her original position. Swearing under her breath, she chanced another look, firing off another shot of her own before moving into the room in a crouched sidle with Olden directly behind her.

Crocker counted to three before following them in, Carasi falling into step behind him. Olden and Briggs were moving in on the suspect behind the desk, so he did a quick scan of the rest of the room, taking note of the two doors—one directly ahead, the other to the left. He missed the door inching open ahead, but the flash of light off metal caught his eye. "Carasi!"

Carasi spun and ducked in one move, but the bullet struck her in the upper arm and she cried out from the pain, stumbling to her knees. Crocker fired at the door, swearing under his breath when his shot missed. Dexter appeared in his peripheral vision, shielding Carasi and Carlton as his partner moved in behind him, helping the injured ensign to her feet and back out the door.

Disarming the subject behind the door proved to be more difficult than they anticipated, as a series of persisting quakes continually disrupted everyone's balance. A lucky shot by Dexter sent the other man's gun clattering to the floor and the lieutenant started to advance towards the door when a distinct loud thunk on the other side gave him pause. The door swung open a minute later and the man behind it stumbled out, taking a few halting steps before collapsing to the floor face first. Crocker's eyes narrowed at the sight of the knife hilt protruding from one shoulder. He held up a hand to warn Dexter to remain where he was, focusing his gaze through the now open doorway. "Come out of there. Hands where I can see 'em."

The young Native that stepped out at his command spared only a moment's contemptuous glance for the dying man on the floor, then met Crocker's stare with a nod. He offered the knife in his hand hilt forward to Dexter, who took it and passed it to his partner. Carlton tossed him a set of cuffs in exchange.

"How many others you got working with you?" Crocker questioned the younger man as the lieutenants cuffed him.

"There is no one else. Only myself and Len."

"Where is she?"

The Native inclined his head in the direction of the door he'd come through with a careless shrug. "Somewhere below."

"Where's Kristin??" The demand came from Nathan, who had since entered the building along with the rest of the team.

Another shrug was the only response and, despite further questioning, he refused to say another word. Deciding not to waste any more time, Crocker assigned Dietz and Olden to stay with Carasi, the prisoner and the two bodies. Carasi insisted that, despite her injury, she could help stand guard. Levin re-examined the ensign's injury and agreed that she was well enough to assist if necessary.

The tunnel lacked adequate lighting and, below the surface, the quaking seemed more pronounced. Yet it seemed that, despite the frequent seismic activity, the underground part of the facility was stable. Crocker halted the team with a silent gesture upon sighting a glass-walled enclosure at the point where the tunnel began to level out. But, when he moved closer, it was obvious there was nowhere for anyone to hide inside. Outside of the counters built into the walls at various places, it was obvious that the room had been long ago stripped of anything else it had once contained. Past that point, the corridor branched off in two different directions. Crocker assigned Mars to take a group down the right hand corridor and took Nathan, Braeckman and Briggs with him in the opposite direction.

The first two doors opened into rooms that were completely empty. The third room had a large observation window next to its door and appeared to have been used as a laboratory. Crocker took note of the dividing walls that split the large space into sections, as well as another door on the far side of the room. A sizeable shelving unit also took up half the right hand wall, along with a trio of cabinets, all empty. He listened hard but he couldn't make out any potential noise due to the earthquakes, which were now happening every other minute.

Spreading out, the four of them checked behind each of the dividing walls, finding only a couple tables and more empty cabinets. Briggs stealthily made her way to the door opposite that was marked with badly faded signage indicating its original purpose was for isolation. She cautiously opened it, aiming her weapon inside before daring a look. "Clear, Chief," she called out softly. "Only some broken lab equipment."

Crocker nodded and glanced over to Braeckman, who had volunteered to check the corner half-hidden by a dividing wall. She shook her head to indicate that she'd found nothing. He nodded and turned back to see if Nathan had found anything. But the captain was not behind him. Narrowing his eyes in confusion, he hurried back across the room, wondering if perhaps he had gone to guard the door. When he spotted the door wide open, he swore under his breath. A glance out into the corridor showed no sign of him either. Sighing in aggravation, he turned back and gestured for Braeckman and Briggs to follow him out, all the while kicking himself for not paying better attention. _Why didn't you keep him in your line of sight, Crocker? You should've known he'd pull somethin' like this!_

 

**(*)**

 

Keeping to the shadows afforded by the lack of lighting, Nathan moved at a quick but stealthy pace past another closed door marked with a sign too faded to read. His old friend was no doubt cursing him right now for slipping away and continuing his pursuit without backup, but searching the entire complex was a pointless exercise. He knew exactly where Len was—in that damned room with the pool she'd used to torture Kristin. Now if only he could locate it in this maze....

The ground rocked sharply beneath his feet again and his ears caught the unmistakable sound of sloshing water somewhere up ahead. He followed it down the corridor, pausing once to listen again in order to make sure he was moving in the right direction. Another, stronger quake made the sound more distinct and he turned a corner where the corridor opened up into a large oval-shaped chamber. Squinting in the dimness as he stepped over the threshold, he noticed that the room was a dead end; there were no other doors that he could see—and in the room's center was the pool, a series of new tremors sending water splashing up along its edges. He barely noticed the sudden increase of seismic activity, all his attention riveted to the pool as the horrible images he'd tried to forget for days suddenly rose up again—Kristin sinking beneath the water, being shoved back under when she tried to surface, on her knees struggling to breathe....

He was brought back to sudden reality when a booted foot made hard contact with his wrist, sending searing pain shooting through his hand and centering in his splinted finger. His weapon flew through the air and landed in the pool with a plop. Gritting his teeth against the pain in his hand, he quickly turned to find himself staring down the pistol that was pointed at him--and it took him a full thirty seconds to look past the black hole of the barrel and into the malevolent gaze of the woman aiming it at his head.

Despite the fact that she had succeeded in putting him at a distinct disadvantage, he had no intention of allowing that to hinder him. "Hello, Lenore."

Her eyes narrowed a fraction. "No one calls me that anymore."

"Not even Marilyn?" He refused to look away from Len's cold stare, knowing that to do so would be a mistake. And yet he had the impression that the two of them were not alone. Was she observing from the shadows?

"Don't you _dare_ speak her name." The words were uttered with pure contempt. "Your sense of loyalty is a study in sheer hypocrisy. Here you are, running to the rescue of your little paramour, yet you're fully willing to betray others when it suits you."

"She was the one who betrayed her oath to—"

"She _trusted_ you. She _looked up_ to you. And you _murdered_ her." Len stepped towards him, not even wavering as the floor rolled beneath their feet.

 _Murdered??_ Sheer disbelief rendered him momentarily speechless. He had always assumed that his former protégée was allowing Len to have full control of the plot against him, knowing that her lover wouldn't be easily recognized; he had never once considered the possibility that she might not be involved at all. "Marilyn's dead?"

The echo of the gun going off made Nathan's ears ring and, for a long moment, all he could hear was the manic thump of his own pulse. And then he felt the burning pain radiate through his shoulder. He reached up without thinking to clutch at the wound, struggling to stay on his feet despite the shock that brought black spots dancing in his line of vision and disrupted his sense of balance. Len advanced on him again and he immediately stepped back, stumbling when the ground rocked anew from a prolonged tremor. "You have the nerve to pretend you don't know when you gave the order to _drown her!"_

He shook his head, still not understanding why Len was accusing him of murder. "If she is truly dead, I had nothing to do with it—"

"I'm not surprised you're going to lie to the very end. And make no mistake, Bridger—I _will_ kill you. This isn't the first time I've killed to protect Mari." A smirk formed on her face. "Though Norman's death was unintentional, and technically it was self-defense, seeing as he attacked me without provocation. He didn't take kindly to anyone 'interfering' with the so-called 'discipline' of his sister and threatened to teach me a lesson. Bet he didn't expect to come out on the losing end with a girl half his size, but that's exactly where he ended up."

Nathan forced himself to focus past the pain of his shoulder wound, hoping to hell Crocker or Briggs had heard the shot that had injured him, fighting to keep his balance even though the continual quakes kept threatening to toss him to the floor. Len's disjointed ranting and the strange glitter in her eyes brought him to a sudden sharp realization: she had gone completely insane. But would he be able to use that against her—or would it leave him at an even greater disadvantage?

"I admit this isn't quite what I had in mind when I started." Len's voice softened to an almost thoughtful tone. "Oh, I knew you would come after your precious Kristin in hopes of saving her. But _never_ did I think that I would get to take you out myself." Her smirk returned as she continued to close in on him.

She was backing him towards the pool—and he knew what she was intending. That meant there was only one thing to do. Lashing a hand out, he grabbed hold of her gun hand, twisting her wrist and jerking her forward in one move. She yelped in surprise and anger and lost hold on her weapon just as the floor jolted hard under their feet. Her own balance faltered, slamming her into him and she tried to pull out of his hold, but gravity dragged them both into the fall and they hit the water at the same instant.

The frigid water shocked Nathan's senses, and he forced himself to ignore its icy grip; allowing the cold to take over would be a distraction. He shoved Len away from him as he surfaced, swiping a hand over his eyes to clear his vision and ascertain his surroundings. It was all he had time to do before she snarled and lunged at him. He managed to catch her hand before she hit him in the face, but her other hand latched into his hair, her weight pushing him underwater. He dug his fingers hard into her arm to loosen her grip, thrusting her away and kicking to propel himself back up for air. Surfacing, he saw that the edge of the pool was within arm's reach and reached out to grab a hold of it.

Without warning, her arm wrapped in a stranglehold around his neck, wrenching him away from the chance of safety. He managed to draw in a breath before she dragged him down again, holding him in a headlock and twisting them around in order to put him beneath her. When he tried to slither out of her grasp, she tightened her hold, pressing harder against his throat. A sliver of panic rose up and he kicked hard, spinning them so that he was on top and dragging her to the surface with him just long enough to catch his breath. He thought he heard someone yell his name before she forced him under once more.

The quick bit of air he'd gotten was not enough and a light-headed feeling immediately began to plague him. He knew he needed to loosen her grip so he could resurface for a proper breath. Since fighting her directly wasn't working, that left attempting to trick her. He allowed himself to go limp, swishing one hand slowly out to the side as if he'd lost the strength to struggle. When the constraint on his neck lessened, he knew she had taken the bait. Ignoring the ache building in his lungs from lack of oxygen, he counted to five, allowing her to drag him further down before throwing them both in a sudden spin while twisting to face her and then giving her a hard shove, a move that he'd learned from Darwin. He kicked hard at the same moment he pushed, propelling them both to the surface and, the second he felt air on his face, threw all of his weight into a second shove, breaking her hold on him. He then swam in the opposite direction, thinking only of staying out of her reach. Crocker was at the edge, offering him a hand. It wasn't until he was out that he thought to look for Len and turned to see Briggs hauling her up from the water. She appeared dazed, not even struggling as the young ensign locked the cuffs around her wrists.

"Cap, you're shot."  

"I'm fine."  A wave of dizziness swept through him and he braced his hands on his knees, forcing himself to breathe slowly and deeply.

"No, you're not," the security chief snapped.  "Braeckman!  Get yourself and that kit of yours over here pronto! Captain's injured."  

"I'm _fine_ , Crocker." He straightened with a wince and gave Crocker a "don't argue with me" glare. Thankfully, the insistent chirp of a PAL distracted Crocker and he snagged it from his belt, hitting the answer button with his thumb. "Crocker."

_"Chief, I can't get through to the captain's PAL. Is he still with you?"_

"He's right here, Dexter. You find the doc yet?"

_"We did, and she's not looking good—"_

"I'm sendin' him and Braeckman to your location now." He handed Nathan his PAL and gestured towards the doorway.

With Braeckman on his heels, Nathan ran through the maze of corridors, following Dexter's directions on auto-pilot. In minutes, he spotted the lieutenant, who was bracing open a thick metal door against the quakes, which had become more numerous by the minute. The door led into a narrow corridor that bore a set of six doors, and the last one on the left was open with Carlton standing guard outside. Reaching the doorway, he froze on the threshold at the sight of Doctor Levin kneeling over a still form on the floor. He wasn't even aware of Braeckman slithering past him to join Levin, his horrified gaze focused on Kristin's pale face and blue-tinged lips. "Is she...."

Levin didn't respond at first, focused on moving the stethoscope over Kristin's chest. His gaze narrowed and he shook his head as he removed the scope and slung it back into his kit. "Core temp very low, minimal response to stimuli, and definite signs of pleural effusions. Even if she has internal injuries, we have to risk moving her. I can't do anything for her here." He looked to his assistant. "Tonya, if you'll get her feet...."

"I'll take her." Nathan stepped forward before the younger man could protest.

"But your shoulder injury, Captain—you shouldn't put weight...."

"I'll risk it. And it will be easier for one person instead of two." He knelt down and lifted Kristin into his arms, ignoring the strain it put on his wounded shoulder. He shivered reflexively at how she was ice cold to the touch, belatedly realizing that her clothes were as wet as his. Fury at Len rose back up, but he forced it down and turned back to the doorway, leading the way out. The sooner they got back to _seaQuest_ , the better—both for Kristin's sake and for their own safety. Despite the fact that Len was no longer a threat, his sixth sense was telling him that a far greater danger had yet to manifest.

 


	13. 12 - In The Shadow Is The Light

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Extra thanks goes to Story for being a second set of eyes on the medical scenes—much appreciated!

**Chapter 12 ~ In the Shadow Is The Light**

 

Kamik sat with his back to the wall and watched the _seaQuest_ crewmembers who had remained in the control room pace the area and talk amongst themselves. He was subconsciously aware of their murmured conversation and their varying reactions to the continual shaking of the floor—but his thoughts were focused elsewhere entirely. 

_Kirima...._ Her face flashed before his mind's eye and he sighed inwardly. 

_Ah, nukka....I have failed you. Even more than I have failed myself._ At the time that he had accepted Len's proposal, he had only been thinking of himself and how her offer would be the perfect solution to his present problem. He should have recognized her insanity from the beginning. 

_And even after I did realize it, I had to stay. Because it seemed to be the only way to get you out of the hell you were trapped in._

Once he was in over his head, however, it was too little too late. He did what he could to retain the appearance of complete loyalty to Len, walking the fine line between the deepening of her mental instability while ensuring she never had reason to doubt his allegiance. But he drew the line at that brute Walt's abuse of their hostage. Resorting to sarcasm and mockery had been too easy; the older man lacked all but basic intelligence and it was laughable how a mere stare down could intimidate him. Kamik had had a more difficult time keeping Westphalen from figuring it all out; she most definitely possessed a brilliant mind and was not afraid to use it to her advantage in a perilous situation. Her verbal sparring with Len shortly after the second round of torture had been quite a sight and he had been surprised by her ability to push Len into reacting. Of course, it had been the insult to the wife's memory that had been the trigger.... 

Urgent voices echoing from up inside the tunnel caught his attention, as well as that of the officers; they turned almost as one towards the open doorway. Chief Crocker and one of the young female officers were first to emerge, with Crocker practically carrying Len. Kamik's eyebrows rose at the sight of the trio: Len was soaking wet, water streaming in thin rivulets from her clothes and dripping from her bangs. He had only moments to wonder how she had ended up in that state before the rest of the group emerged. The dark haired male doctor and his assistant were in the lead and right behind him was Bridger with Westphalen in his arms, the remaining security officers bringing up the rear. The older man was also drenched, as well as sporting a bullet wound in one shoulder, and Kamik couldn't help the faint smirk that graced his lips as his mind put the two together. Len had indeed underestimated the good captain's resolve--and by more than a little bit. 

Dietz hooked a hand under his elbow to bring him to stand. As he rose, a sudden tremor rocked their footing and she tightened her grip momentarily to ensure he didn't stumble. He nodded his thanks to her, then glanced down at his feet with a slight frown. The little earthquakes had become even more continuous in the last several hours, he realized, mere minutes passing from one tremor to the next. The largest of the security men had hefted Walt's body over one shoulder while another was carrying Hack. A third was trying unsuccessfully to convince Bridger to allow him to carry Westphalen, citing his wounded shoulder. Without warning, Kamik's hackles rose and he turned and stared at the open tunnel, the sense of imminent peril growing stronger the longer he gazed into the darkness beyond the doorway. 

Forcibly shaking away the dread, he raised his voice enough to be heard by the two lieutenants nearest to the door, not caring what they might think of his speaking up. "If everyone has returned, I would suggest closing that door." 

The pair exchanged a look before one shrugged and did so. He was turning back to address his partner when a sharp jolt, harder than any of the preceding quakes, rocked the floor. Carasi slammed into the wall behind her, biting back a cry as her wounded arm was jostled. Dietz reached out to steady Kamik and he shifted his stance in order to better brace himself against the increasing tremors. Bridger stumbled and collapsed to his knees, clutching the unconscious doctor close to his chest. Everyone else was focused on keeping themselves upright, glancing nervously at the ceiling and surrounding walls. Meanwhile, Kamik narrowed his eyes in puzzlement at the sensation of the tremors suddenly changing; he could feel the difference in the vibrations beneath his feet and how they seemed to resonate up into his spine. His eyes widened at the realization of what it meant. Glancing around at the others proved that they had not sensed it. 

When the shaking finally eased, the crew exchanged uneasy looks and seemed relieved when Crocker gave the order to return to the launch. As Dietz led him outside, Kamik cast a fleeting look over the top of her head; his suspicions confirmed when he saw the seepage of water flowing from beneath the closed tunnel door. 

 

 **(*)**

 

He didn't know what was worse about the waiting--the fact that the fog outside the launch was so thick he couldn't see a foot past the windshield, or the constant tremors that shook the ground at what felt like a steadily increasing pace. 

Ben paced the length of the launch in quick, nervous steps, pausing only to stare out the cockpit into the fog every time he reached the bow. Of all the times he'd been called upon as a reserve security officer, this had to rank in the top five of the worst: a deserted island in the middle of the Bering, no idea how many adversaries they were facing, or even if the doc was still alive. He found his hand drifting to his holster every thirty seconds, wondering just what or who might be lurking somewhere out in the thick mist. He was used to the waiting, even though it drove him crazy. And it was one thing to not know the number of potential opponents without; he was already prepared for that possibility. It was quite another to have fog and earthquakes constantly tricking his mind—especially the quakes. 

_"It's twenty-five percent about the action--and seventy-five percent about waiting for the action to happen."_ Commander Tovar had drilled that into their heads from day one of training, her way to point out that security was not the glamorous position a lot of military recruits assumed that it was. It had been a difficult lesson to learn, but one that had always stuck with him, and one that he could usually cope with despite his natural impatience. Except for situations like this one....

The chirp of the comm panel startled him and he switched it on. "MR-4." 

Briggs' voice echoed through the link in response. _"Lieutenant, we're on our way up the path now."_

"Got it." Breathing a sigh of relief, he closed the link and keyed in the command to open the launch's hatch. The away team appeared out of the fog in a steady stream of people, with a few added to their numbers. Olden and Mars were each carrying a body. Briggs and Dietz were escorting a young Native man whose hands were cuffed. Once he was settled, Briggs hurried up front to the co-pilot's seat. Crocker stomped into the launch next carrying another body, this one dripping water. The body uttered a low moan as he set it down and Ben did a brief double-take when he realized it was a woman. 

"Fire 'er up, Krieg," the security chief ordered, returning to the launch's hatch with his beacon, pointing it out into the cloak of fog. "We need to get back to the boat pronto. The doc's in bad shape." 

"Don't have to tell me twice." Flopping back into the pilot's seat, Ben quickly flipped the switches to power up the launch while Briggs went through the standard system checks. He would be glad to get the hell off this island and away from the seismic activity. He couldn't stand earthquakes. They came with no warning; there was no way to plan ahead. And if you were in the wrong place, you were completely screwed. 

_Give me a hurricane any day. You keep an eye on the weather reports, stock up on necessities and sandbags, put up the hurricane shutters and wait it out once it shows up._ Another rumble beneath the launch made him shudder and he was glad to hear voices coming from outside; no doubt the rest of the away team arriving. Casting a glance over his shoulder, he saw the captain run in with Doc Westphalen in his arms before Doc Levin came in on the captain's heels and straight up to the cockpit, requesting to be put on the link with the ship. 

As the launch slid beneath the waves, Ben focused on piloting through the rough surface currents, listening with half an ear to Levin's conversation with someone in medbay and catching mentions of "severe hypothermia" and "probable signs of aspiration pneumonia". Near the end of the discussion, the link went to static and almost cut out; flipping the switches to boost the signal only helped minimally. Levin reassured him that he'd been able to tell medbay everything he needed to before heading into the back of the launch to tend to his patient. 

The communications link soon proved not to be the only problem. Despite the fact that they were now well below the surface currents and reaching progressively lower depths, the remaining sensors were also beginning to malfunction.   _This is worse than when we came in--at least then, we had a clear audio link._ It reminded him uncomfortably of the time he had been part of the group stranded in the Bermuda Triangle. A sudden hard surge hit the launch with enough force that, for a moment, he thought they had run aground on a reef the sensors hadn't detected. But when they were buffeted by a second and a third, he realized the currents were getting progressively rougher at an alarming rate. 

Briggs swore under her breath, clinging to the wheel. "What the hell is going on out there? We should be deep enough now to be free of the island's tectonic range...." As the shaking began to finally lessen, she released one hand from the wheel and reached over to the communications panel. " _SeaQuest_ , this is MR-4. We are getting battered by really rough currents over here—if this continues, we may need assistance docking when we arrive." 

The response was a cacophony of assorted chaos mixed with heavy static—various voices shouting and the alert klaxon echoing dimly in the background. 

_"--shockwave incoming--thir--impact..."_

Ben shared a troubled glance with his co-pilot. Was the ship under attack? He flipped a switch on the comm panel to try and clear up the link. "O'Neill??" 

A crackle of static was the only answer and, for a moment, Ben thought the connection had been severed before O'Neill's voice finally filtered through. _"We're--hammered too, MR-4. --massive seismic swarm--epicenter 51 de--north, 178 degrees w--"  
_

"Underwater quakes? Well, that's not surprising, considering the amount of seismic activity we had on the surface." The launch swayed as another shockwave struck it and he and Briggs both turned the wheels slightly port to compensate. 

_"Actually, not--qua--."_ The static grew slightly louder before the link cleared and O'Neill's next words came through crystal-clear. _"According to the WSKR data, Mount Tanaga is preparing to erupt."_

"Oh, _great,"_ Ben grumbled, exchanging a grimace with Briggs. First earthquakes, now a volcano. What else could possibly go wrong? 

As if his thought were the trigger, there was a loud snap from the speakers and then there was silence. 

" _seaQuest_ , are you there?" Briggs flipped the switch on the comm panel off, then on and keyed in a command to boost the frequency with her free hand. "Lieutenant O'Neill?" But there was only silence and she sighed in disgust. "Looks like we've lost the link." 

"Guess we're sailing blind, then." He raised his voice in order to be heard by the rest of the passengers. "Everyone back there, make sure you're strapped in." He didn't wait for any responses before turning his attention back to the sensors. _Now let's hope I can get us all back in one piece._

It was a very tense ten-minute journey back to the ship, turbulent waves battering them the entire way. Docking was thankfully accomplished without any major mishaps or any need for assistance. Once the launch was safely secured in the docking bay, Ben powered it down and heaved a sigh of relief. At least they had made it back in one piece. Now, all he could do was hope they could help the doc. 

 

**(*)  
**

Tonya Braeckman slung her medkit's strap over her shoulder and quickly ascended the ladder out of the launch. Levin and the captain had already left with Doc Kristin, and she wasn't surprised to see the empty gurney with two of her coworkers waiting next to it. 

"The captain--" 

"Refused, I know," Tonya said with a shrug. "Carasi's wounded as well, so we can use it for her." 

"I don't need a gurney." Tonya turned to see Mars assisting the injured security officer up through the hatch. Carasi thanked him before turning to the waiting medics. "I got shot in the arm, not the leg. I'll walk to medbay." 

As the medics turned their attention to Carasi's injuries, Mars was lifting Len out of the hatch, guiding her to step back as Crocker climbed up the ladder. Tonya was about to turn and leave for medbay when she noticed that the brunette was swaying on her feet--and she could tell it was not an act; Mars literally had to hold her upright. Warily, she approached the older woman, tilting her chin up in order to look her in the face. Her unfocused gaze, dilated pupils and shallow gasping breaths confirmed her suspicions. 

"How long has she been like this?" she questioned Mars, moving behind Len and lifting her wet, tangled hair to feel along the back of her head. Len moaned at the touch, attempting to pull away from it and protesting in a slurred whimper. 

"Most of the ride back. She's been mumbling nonsense when she's said anything at all." 

Tonya nodded with a frown when her fingers came back streaked with blood. "Humphreys, bring that gurney over here. We're going to need it after all." 

It was a bit of a struggle to get Len onto the gurney; she seemed to regain her senses at one point, fighting Humphreys and Haire and even Mars as he fastened the cuffs to the gurney rails. The same problem occurred again when they arrived in medbay and tried to move her onto the table in the scan room; she became uncontrollable, despite the fact that her first swing at Haire's head nearly sent her tumbling to the floor face first. 

At that point, Tonya lost all patience. "Stop fighting us, damn it!" she snapped. "Believe it or not, we're trying to _help_ you." 

The sharp words seemed to settle the other woman down as her pale, unfocused gaze met Tonya's stare. She had to force herself to look away but she could feel Len's eyes on her until the dome closed up around her head and torso; at once, she renewed her attempt at struggling, this time pulling frantically against the restraints on her wrists. 

"No....can't--can't breathe.... " 

"Haire, take over." The young medic stepped up to the scan controls, while Tonya moved over by the side of the table. "You're going to need to remain still so we can do the scan." When the movement inside the dome ceased, Tonya glanced over to Haire and nodded. The scanner hummed as it went through the preliminary cycle and Tonya turned to leave when Len's fingers suddenly clamped around her wrist. 

"Mari...stay...please...." 

She tried unsuccessfully to pull free of the brunette's grip, but Len moaned and mumbled incoherently when she did. Shrugging to herself, she decided it wouldn't hurt to allow it for the few minutes it took to complete the scan. Permitting the touch seemed to calm Len down, even though the tight grip made Tonya's skin crawl. Her slurred whispering was even more disturbing, despite the fact that she could understand very little of it. The only thing she could make out clearly was the repeated whisper of "Mari..."; she deduced it had to be the name of someone important. 

"Tonya, you'd better come look at this." 

Haire's dark tone sent a chill down her spine. She turned and stopped short, forgetting that Len had a hold of her wrist. Gently prying Len's fingers off her arm and ignoring the incoherent protests, she returned to the scan controls. One look at the screen told her that her earlier gut instinct had been confirmed and she blew out a slow breath, shaking her head. "Set up and run an MRI, then prep the surgical bay. I'll go inform Doc Levin." 

 

 **(*)**

 

The aching chill that had been plaguing him for three days was beginning to fade. Nathan shivered absently and reached up to rub at his arms; his fingers finding damp cloth reminded him that he was still in wet clothes. He knew he needed to change lest he risk his own bout of hypothermia--but all his attention was focused on the occupied bed fifty feet away. He could barely see Kristin with everyone moving about, but occasionally he caught a glimpse of her face when someone stepped aside or reached for an item. Levin was barking orders while his assistants were rattling off her various vital statistics, but most of it was past his comprehension. 

"Captain, I need to tend to your shoulder." 

Ensign Williams' voice next to him startled him for a moment. He shook his head, his gaze still fixed across the room. "I'll be fine," he murmured. He shivered again, the ache fading a little more; suddenly, a burning flared up in his left shoulder and down his arm. Black spots danced in his vision for several seconds and he reached out to lean on the wall for support against the abrupt weakness in his knees. 

"No, you are not fine." Williams' retort was gentle but firm as she pointed to the bed behind her. With a resigned sigh, he slumped onto it and swore under his breath when the movement sent a sharp stab of fresh pain through his wounded shoulder and down his arm. She shook her head at him and began to cut open the sleeve of his jumpsuit. Except for an occasional mumbled curse before she injected the anesthetic and the painkiller, he remained silent, looking over her shoulder. 

Time passed in a haze for him; part of him was aware of the burning in his shoulder beginning to diminish in minute degrees, and that he was finally no longer shivering. The nagging ache in his chest lingered, as if the anesthetic had numbed that in addition to his shoulder. He squinted in an effort to try to read the one screen he could see above Kristin, but it was too far away to discern exactly what it was monitoring. His attention was caught by Braeckman as she approached Levin and he stepped away to talk to her. Whatever she said made him frown and he gestured to another medic to take his place at Kristin's bedside before following Braeckman into one of the back rooms. 

His gaze returned to Kristin, muddled thoughts tumbling one after another as he watched the medbay staff tend to her. Their movements seemed unhurried now, more efficient than frantic. Surely, that meant the initial danger was past...or was it? She was no doubt still in critical condition. Had they been able to reach her in time? Would she survive this horrible ordeal? Or had they been too late--and he would never get to tell her that he loved her.... 

He dimly heard an alarm pierce the air before the full effects of the medications in his system and the exhaustion made medbay fade around him.

  

**(*)**

  

The faint murmurs of voices and the quiet hum of equipment slowly brought Nathan back to consciousness. Eventually, he began to recognize the voices as belonging to the medbay staff and wondered why they would be in his quarters. Opening his eyes, he realized that he actually was in medbay--and that realization made him remember how he had ended up there. He tried to sit up, wincing when pain shot through his shoulder. 

His groan caught Levin's attention. "How are you feeling, Captain?" 

Nathan blinked to focus his gaze. "Shoulder hurts. How long have I been asleep?" 

"Almost five hours." Levin turned Nathan's wrist to check the portable IV unit strapped to his arm, swiping his thumb twice over the unit's touchpad, then keyed in the necessary information into the tablet in his other hand. "That should ease your pain shortly. If it doesn't begin working within half an hour, let me know." 

"Kristin?" 

"She's in room three. We got her stabilized--core temperature back up to normal, as well as on the necessary antibiotics and oxygen. She's still unconscious, but resting comfortably. I imagine it will be at least a day or two before she wakes up." 

He nodded, then frowned thoughtfully. "If Kristin is stable, then what was the reason for that alarm I heard earlier?" 

"That was Miss Haas. Unfortunately, she did not survive her injuries." 

Nathan blinked again, not comprehending at first. When his tired mind finally put two and two together, the only response he could muster up was "What?" 

"I've spoken with Chief Crocker and Ensign Briggs; both described the struggle they witnessed between the two of you, and stated that her head struck the side of the pool. Their stories are consistent with the cause of death by acute subdural hematoma. I will need your report later but, even without it, Crocker and Briggs' reports are enough for the record." 

_Len was dead._ She would never face justice for what she'd done. His first thought was relief—there would be no opportunity for her to ever harm anyone again. It was followed immediately by a twinge of shocked guilt. The fact that he had fatally injured her stunned him, as that had never been his intention. He would have much preferred to see her answer for her crimes. But like Marilyn, Len had made her own wrong choices, the biggest one using her personal loss in order to exact misguided revenge. On some level, he could understand how that amount of grief could drive one to take drastic measures; he had been there himself once. But he had been fortunate enough to heal from that loss, even though it had taken him several years. It was unfortunate that she would now never have that opportunity.

"Captain?" 

Shaking himself out of his dark thoughts, Nathan turned to Levin; the young doctor gestured towards the nearby doorway that led to the patient rooms. "You're welcome to sit with her if you would like. Though, as I said, she is not likely to awaken for at least another day." 

Getting up and walking proved easier said than done at first; despite the current dose of pain meds working their way through his system, he still felt battered and sore. Ignoring it, he stepped into the room, stopping short for a moment before moving to take the chair at her bedside. She looked smaller than usual, bundled snugly in several layers of blankets. He did his best to ignore the soft trills and beeps of the equipment surrounding the bed, but it was impossible not to notice the oxygen mask covering the lower half of her face. Reaching out, he very gently brushed his fingers over her brow, then took her hand in his, running his thumb over the back of it. 

"You're safe now," he murmured. "And I hope you'll wake up soon, so I can finally say what I should have said a long time ago." 

The faint, steady beep of the cardiac monitor was his only answer, but it was one that he would accept for the time being. All that mattered was that there would now hopefully be a chance for a new beginning.

 

 

 

 


	14. 13 - Sine Qua Non

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Huge thanks to Kazu for helping me work through dialogue snarls!
> 
> _sine qua non (Latin) – "without which not" or "without which [there is] nothing"; something essential that cannot be done without._

**Chapter 13 ~ Sine Qua Non**

 

The faint beeping sound slowly drew Kristin towards awareness. For several long moments, disorientation reigned. The surface she lay on felt strangely soft and the unbearable cold had been reduced to a slight chill. And that beeping was steadily growing louder....where was it coming from? The last thing she remembered was.... 

_Len...._ The name rose to the surface and, with it, her last recall: cold blue eyes boring into hers, hateful insinuations whispered in her ear, the agony of icy water closing over her head. Panic flared to the forefront and made her painfully aware of the oppressive weight centered on her chest. Her eyes flew open and the glaring light that met them caused a sharp pain to bloom in her head. As she struggled against the heaviness weighing her down, the beeping changed to a shrill alarm, the difference in volume and tone shocking her to near full consciousness while doubling the headache. 

The urgent murmur of voices drew her attention and the alarm was silenced a moment later. The soft, steady beeping had returned, and she now recognized it as a cardiac monitor. A lot of blinking brought her surroundings into focus and she realized she was in _seaQuest's_ medbay. The first person she saw was Tonya Braeckman, who gave her a smile of greeting. "Welcome back, Doc." 

 

**(*)**

 

Nathan awoke with a start, blinking in the dimness of his quarters and wondering for a moment just where he was. Then he belatedly remembered that Levin had again ordered him to return to his quarters to get some rest. For the first twenty-four hours after Kristin's rescue, he had been permitted to remain in medbay when he was not at her bedside so they could monitor his shoulder wound. Once Levin had determined that any chance of infection had been prevented, however, he was ordered to take a four-hour break from his vigil every twelve hours. The only reason he had agreed was because Levin promised to page him if Kristin awoke during his absence. 

Getting dressed seemed to take seconds and he was out the door as quickly as possible. It wasn't until he was almost to the stairs that he realized both the chill and the ache in his chest that had bothered him for days were now completely gone. No doubt it had simply been a side effect from lack of sleep and stress, both of which would now no longer be an issue. 

As he entered the main area of medbay, Levin looked up from his console. "Ah, Captain, you have perfect timing. I was just about to call you." He nodded towards the doorway behind him. 

 

**(*)**

 

Kristin managed a weak smile in return to the nurse's greeting, but her attempt at speaking only triggered a convulsive coughing fit. Tonya immediately moved to support her, shutting off the necessary alarms one-handed. Once the cough subsided, Kristin slumped back against the pillows with a shaky sigh. 

"How long...." 

"A little over two days." 

_Two days...._ She fought the fatigue that the coughing spell had exacerbated as Tonya performed a routine check of vitals, asked about her pain levels and switched out her current blankets for newly warmed ones. The added warmth felt heavenly and the urge to return to sleep so tempting that she almost didn't realize the nurse was still talking. 

"...up for a visitor?" 

She blinked again. "I'm sorry, Tonya. What?" Then a flicker of movement out of the corner of her eye caught her attention and she turned to see Nathan standing in the doorway. 

 

**(*)**

 

Nathan paused in the doorway, taking note of Braeckman fussing with a small stack of blankets before his gaze shifted to Kristin. Exhaustion was etched into her features, but it was enough to see her awake and alert. Her eyes met his and the ghost of a smile that crossed her face made his heart leap in his chest. Braeckman turned to see him standing there and she quickly finished adjusting the top blanket after glancing at the nearest monitor and keying in a command on its touchscreen. "Well....I'd better get back to work. Just remember to page me if you need anything, okay, Doc?" 

"Thank you, Tonya. I will." 

The young nurse slipped out of the room, carefully sliding the door closed behind her. Nathan barely noticed her departure as he settled into the chair by Kristin's bedside. "Good to see you with your eyes open," he teased gently, taking her hand in his. 

Her smile increased just slightly and she shifted her hand so that she could lace her fingers through his. "Probably won't be that way for too long." 

"Don't you worry about that. It's more important that you recover. Besides, I've gotten used to watching you sleep the last couple days." 

"I never thought I would see you again...." Her whispered words trailed off into a brief coughing bout. When it subsided, she sighed and closed her eyes for a moment before opening them again to meet his. "How did you find me?" 

"It's kind of a long story—but the short version is that, between Lucas and O'Neill working together on tracing the messages sent to us and an encoded message O'Neill was able to translate, we were able to ascertain your location. We were able to get you out of there just in time, thankfully with no casualties on our side. Two of them were killed and one surrendered—a young Aleut man. He's currently in the brig and refusing to talk, much to Crocker's annoyance." 

"And Len? Were you able to take her into custody, or did she escape?" 

He hesitated for a moment. "We did, but she was injured in the process. She didn't survive, despite Levin's best efforts in the surgical bay." 

Her eyes studied his face for a long moment. "There's something you're not telling me." 

He shook his head with a wry chuckle. "You know me too well. I wanted to shield you from the worst until you had a chance to recover, but you deserve to know the truth. I was responsible for her death; she tried to drown me and I fought back. After I managed to throw her off me, I realized I had thrown her against the side of the pool. The blow to her head was fatal. I was so furious by the thought of what she'd done to you that when Levin told me she was dead, my first reaction was to be relieved...." His voice trailed off. "Maybe she was right. Maybe I _am_ a murderer." 

Kristin's fingers curled around his in a light squeeze. "Oh, Nathan—no. That sounds like clear self-defense." 

"And yet, in the end, I could almost understand how she felt. I've been where she is, and that level of grief can be debilitating, especially when you're so mired in it that you refuse to let yourself move on." Nathan sighed and shook his head again. "I wouldn't have let go without being pushed into it. But stubbornness is one of my worst habits, which reminds me: I owe you a very belated apology for our argument the day Darwin was injured. My yelling at you was completely out of line." 

"Now, that was as much my fault as it was yours. And I'm just as stubborn as y--" Another coughing fit gripped her, and he automatically moved to brace her when the convulsions made her double over. He continued to hold her even after it abated, rubbing her back in gentle circles. After several minutes had passed, she sat up straight in order to take a few slow, deep breaths. 

"If I hadn't been so damned obstinate, I would have been with you in Anchorage. They wouldn't have had the chance to lay a hand on you. But I wasn't—and because of my behavior, I almost lost you." He swallowed back the lump that had risen in his throat. "I couldn't stand the thought of losing another person that I love." 

"I could say the same." Her response was almost a whisper. "I didn't want to give up, but I really did begin to think that it wasn't possible you would find me in time. And I knew my biggest regret would be that I would never have the chance to tell you that I love you...." 

He had wondered for an instant if his admittance of love had been a mistake, but her words dashed all doubt. Tilting her chin up, he lowered his lips to hers. Her arms slid up to encircle his neck. As the kiss deepened by slow measures, he pulled her closer, absorbing the fact that she was here in his arms. After several long moments, she broke the lip lock and a sharp stab of guilt hit him when her ragged breathing told him why she'd pulled away. 

"Sorry," he murmured, pressing a kiss to her forehead. 

"Don't be." She had caught her breath again and now a small smile graced her face. "It's not the first time you've taken my breath away." 

He returned her smile, knowing she was referring to their moment on the beach during the banquet. She shifted to lean her head against his chest and he wrapped her in his arms, tucking the end of the blanket around her shoulders to help keep her warm. She caught his hand in hers, twining their fingers together again. 

"So what happens now?" Her soft words broke the silence. 

Nathan rubbed his thumb idly over the back of her hand. "We take it one day at a time. This will almost be like starting over for me, though my main concern is the crew. We both know how to be discreet, of course, but this is still a small boat." 

Kristin laughed quietly. "From some of the looks we get and the comments they already make when they think we aren't aware, I don't think that will be a problem." 

"Guess we'll see how things go, then." Feeling her shiver, he slipped his hand from hers and snagged a second blanket to wrap around her. He wasn't surprised at her sudden lack of response, knowing it meant she had fallen asleep. A faint smile formed on his face as he brushed a stray wisp of her hair behind her ear. It would likely be hours before she awakened again, but he couldn't resist the temptation to hold her while she slept. The news that she was conscious again would spread to the rest of the crew all too soon, meaning he would have to compete with the others who would want to visit. So he intended to make the moment last as long as possible. 

He didn't know how much time had actually passed before the insistent chirp of the audio link disrupted the quiet. Luckily, it was on the wall next to the edge of the bed and he didn't have to get up to reach it. "Bridger," he said in a low voice. 

_"Cap, if you're available, would you mind comin' down to the brig? Seems our_ guest _has decided to talk, but he claims he'll only talk to you."_

"Very well. I'll be down there shortly." A glance down at Kristin proved that the brief conversation had not disturbed her rest, for which he was grateful. With careful movements, he lay her back down and tucked the covers around her snugly. She stirred fleetingly when he brushed his lips against hers, but did not awaken. While part of him was reluctant to leave, their suspect needed to be questioned—and he intended on getting some actual answers. He would not tolerate any more of these diversions.

 


	15. 14 - Finding Contrition

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Thank you to Katesfire for answering my legal questions!

 

**Chapter 14 ~ Finding Contrition**

 

Entering the brig, Nathan found a glowering security chief leaning against the wall by the doorway. His irritated glare was directed to the interior of the occupied cell across the room, where their suspect sat on the bench against the left hand wall, cross-legged, hands resting on his knees. His demeanor was the complete opposite of Crocker's: eyes closed, face a visage of complete calm.

"Has he told you anything?" Nathan inquired, studying the young Aleut closely. He could have sworn he had seen a slight flinch from the other man at the sound of his voice.  
  
"All we got out of him is his name: Kamik. He's refused to say anything else. His prints match a juvenile record from up in Bethel." Crocker passed over the tablet he had been holding. "The charges are a mix but the big ones are a couple vandalism complaints, a B&E and a domestic assault against his stepfather. Funny thing is—that last one was almost ten years ago. It'd make you think he'd cleaned up his act...until this. Well, I'll leave him to you, Cap. Good luck." Shaking his head, Crocker left the room.  
  
Nathan skimmed the information on the tablet's screen, noting that the majority of the complaints logged on the report had been made by the stepfather. Stepping into the cell, he closed the door behind him and leaned against its frame to wait. At the click of the door closing, Kamik's eyes opened. Spotting Nathan, he inclined his head in greeting. "Captain. Shall I assume that Doctor Westphalen's recovery is proceeding apace?" 

"I'm not down here to discuss Doctor Westphalen," Nathan retorted, annoyed by the younger man's blasé tone. "I also have no intention of letting you dodge the issue. You told Chief Crocker that you would talk only to me, so I suggest you start talking." 

Kamik's face remained expressionless but something—a hint of resentment?—flickered in the depths of his eyes. "You are aware that her survival was due in part to my success in distracting both Len and Walt on occasion from causing her further harm?" 

"And that's supposed to make up for you helping Len to abduct her, to torture her by nearly drowning her??" The mental image of Kristin lying unconscious in a medbay bed with an oxygen mask covering her face rose to the forefront of Nathan's mind; he shook his head slightly to chase it away. The motion helped to calm his rising temper. 

"I am sure you will not believe me when I tell you that Len deceived me as to her true motives." 

"What I believe isn't important. I _will_ say that your actions are a contradiction," Nathan continued. "By all accounts—" He tapped the tablet screen. "You were nothing but trouble for years and appeared to be on a clear path to self-destruction. Then, all of a sudden, it seems like you grew up and decided to do something constructive with your life. Am I on the right track so far?" 

"More or less." Kamik's voice had developed a slight edge. 

"Ten years goes by before you decide to become involved with Len's plot. Now, regardless of the fact that you allege that she deceived you, it seems rather odd that you would suddenly turn to criminal behavior again—" 

_"I had my reasons!"_ Nathan blinked in surprise at the vehement response, realizing Kamik was on his feet, hands clenched into fists. But his flare of temper seemed to pass as quickly as it had come; he sighed heavily and slowly slumped back onto the bench. Another long moment passed before he lifted his head to meet Nathan's gaze again. "I am not proud of what I did, but it was what I felt was my only option at the time.   And by the time I realized Len's exact intentions—as well as the fact that she was completely unstable—it was too late." 

"Too late for what?" 

Kamik's eyes narrowed. "Are you going to believe what I have to say?" 

"You claimed to have helped Kristin while Len was holding her hostage." Nathan kept his tone even, not wanting Kamik to change his mind about talking. "You _did_ help her—and us—in a way by leading us to the island. If you are truly intending to be honest, now would be the time to prove it by telling me your side of the story." 

Kamik was silent for several moments before he finally sighed again. "Kirima." 

"Kirima?" 

Kamik nodded to the tablet in Nathan's hands. "Look up Adrien Kashatok." 

His curiosity piqued, Nathan inputted the name and ran a database search. Immediately, the tablet brought up the details of an active warrant on the man Kamik had named. _Prime suspect in the homicide of Kirima Intiak. Current whereabouts unknown._ He glanced over the rest of the details, noting that there were over a dozen domestic violence complaints against Kashatok. All had been reported by Kirima Intiak herself and later withdrawn. 

"She was my little sister." Kamik's quiet words broke the silence. "The only worthwhile result of my mother's second marriage, since my stepfather was not good for much of anything else. My mother let him rule the household—and he threw me out when I turned sixteen. Kirima kept in contact with me secretly until she was of age and could therefore tell her father that he could not forbid her to claim me as family. Unfortunately, it was not long after that that she met Kashatok." 

"And that's where the trouble started, I take it." 

"Indeed. I could tell from the moment I laid eyes on him that he was dangerous. My stepfather felt the same." Kamik paused, smirking thoughtfully. "It was the sole time he and I ever agreed on anything. Perhaps if he had had the common sense to speak to Kirima like the adult she was, he might have accomplished his goal. But, as was typical of him, he postured and threatened and behaved in exactly the right way to convince her that _keelut_ was the man for her." 

Nathan could see where this tale was going to go; even as he wanted to hear more, he was left wondering how much of it was even true. 

"The relationship went well for eighteen months or so, likely because he was rarely home—he worked on the fishing fleets. The trouble began when the fleet's owner went bankrupt and put him out of work. I was working out on Unimak at the time, but I sent what I could to help them out. It was not enough, and he soon began taking out his frustrations out on Kirima. Despite this abuse, she would not listen to those of us telling her to leave him until the night I was present and interceded—and he came at me with a knife." The smirk returned for a brief moment. "He was not anticipating my own skill with a blade." 

"I'm surprised you didn't kill him," Nathan remarked. "You must possess a remarkable ability to restrain yourself." 

"Given that he lost a finger and came close to losing his left eye, I considered it warning enough," Kamik shrugged. "And I was not about to traumatize Kirima any more than necessary. Since I could not take her with me to Unimak, she went to stay with her closest friend. I knew she would be safe there because Chumia has five brothers, all of whom are twice my size. I thought that her ordeal was over. But it hadn't been two months before he managed to gain access to her and sway her with apologies and promises to reform. Both Chumia and I tried to talk her out of it, the end result being she told us both to go to hell." 

Nathan glanced down at the tablet screen again and the image of Adrien Kashatok, noting the prominent scar that went from under his left eye to his jawline. It was certainly looking like there was a ring of truth to what Kamik was telling him. 

"She stopped speaking to Chumia entirely. We did not speak for nearly six months until she called me out of the blue one night. Kashatok had gone right back to abusing her and was threatening to kill her as well. Her attempts to report him to the local police always ended up with her on the losing end because they insisted they had to have 'his side of the story', even when she was sporting a healing black eye." Kamik shook his head in disgust. "I told her I would help her leave Alaska on the condition that she would not change her mind this time: if she went back to him again, I would no longer help her." 

"So I'm guessing the involvement with Len happened because she offered you the money Kirima needed?" Nathan guessed. 

"Precisely. The offer was too good to refuse—and I was stupid enough to take her up on it. All I could think about was getting my _nukka_ out of the reach of that bastard. It was only after we were established on Tanaga that Len told me her intentions—and even then, she lied." Kamik snorted in self-contempt. "She informed me Doctor Westphalen would be released when the UEO agreed to charge you with the murder of her Marilyn. Yet I still remained because, in my mind, Kirima's safety was paramount. At that time, all was going according to what we planned. Kirima actually decided not to just leave Alaska, but the confederation. The Netherlands was her intended destination, and she also planned to change her identity once within North Sea borders. Both of us knew it was unlikely that Kashatok would search for her, but it was another intended layer of protection that put her mind at ease." 

"Was Kirima aware of what you were doing in order to help secure her escape?" 

A sad smile crossed the young Aleut's face. "No. In the beginning, I simply told her I had secured better work. When I found out the truth—or what I thought the truth was—I kept it from her because I knew she would object. Our contact was limited as it was, because she did not want Kashatok to suspect her intentions." The smile abruptly faded and his eyes grew darker with sorrow. "But somehow, he must have learned of her plans. How or in what way, I do not know. What I _did_ know was that something was terribly wrong when she did not answer her cell phone. I waited twelve hours for her to call; she never did. Once that much time had passed, I no longer doubted that something had happened. I tried to hold on to the hope that she had had to flee ahead of schedule and was already en route to Amsterdam—but I _knew_ I was fooling myself and that she was dead." 

"And that is what made you decide to send us your message." 

"Not originally. But Len's grief had driven her so deep into her insanity that she could no longer see reason—about anything. My attempts to warn her about _Kusuuginax_ were ignored and, therefore, I had to act quickly. I knew there was no way I could get the doctor and myself past Hack's security system. That left leading you to the island." Kamik fell silent, his gaze falling to the floor. "It was the only way I felt I could atone for failing my sister." After another long minute of silence, he met Nathan's stare again. "So....will the end result of this conversation prove beneficial to me or no?" 

Nathan shook his head. "That decision is not mine to make. And I wouldn't be surprised if the prosecution petitions to use the contents of your juvenile record against you. Explaining your side of the story _might_ be seen as continued cooperation, given that Lieutenant O'Neill can confirm that you were responsible for leading us to the island. But I cannot guarantee that they will do so." 

"I understand. And I hope you do as well now." 

Nathan paused by the door. "I'm sorry?" 

"That I did what I had to do to protect Kirima. Would you not have done the same in my place to protect Doctor Westphalen?" 

"No. I would have found other means that didn't involve harming innocent people." But even as he left the brig, pausing only long enough to leave the tablet with the security officer on duty, Nathan knew that his immediate declaration was not as strong as it had sounded. If he had been in the younger man's shoes—if Kristin had been the one in that kind of danger, he knew in his gut that the possibility of being compelled to go against his conscience would have been all too tempting. 

 

**(*)**

 

 

After Bridger departed, Kamik settled himself into position back on the bench, folding his legs under him. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted Chief Crocker re-enter the main brig area but ignored the glare the older man shot in his direction. Unburdening himself to Bridger had sent his mind and spirit into turmoil and he closed his eyes, forcing himself to breathe slowly and deeply to overcome the tension. The sudden feel of cool slickness against his hand sent a rush of calm down to his core and he sighed softly, rubbing his thumb over the polished obsidian pendant that depicted a raven with wings spread in full flight.  
  
The necklace was now the only thing he had left of Kirima, made by her own hand as a gift for his eighteenth birthday. Quick thinking and a ready lie had enabled him to keep the necklace from being confiscated by Crocker. Thankfully, his troubled past meant he was aware that the UEO abided by the same rules local authorities did when it came to permitting prisoners to keep religious items, though he found himself having to bite his tongue when the security chief insisted on inspecting it for "sharp edges". For a brief moment, he had worried that Crocker would defy the regulation and confiscate it after all, but it was returned after what seemed to Kamik like an overly thorough examination of the pendant and a few mumbled comments.  
  
Relaxing against the wall behind him, he traced a finger along the length of the necklace, feeling the changes in texture while the memories washed over him. The crisp roughness of the woven beach grass contrasted with the minute irregularities and faint warmth of the walrus ivory beads; Kirima's selection of materials were meant to represent the union of land and sea that had sustained their ancestors in centuries past. As for the pendant, she had teased him that her choice of the Raven talisman represented him personally because he was as much trouble as the legendary trickster. Any mocking retort he had attempted was met with laughter. The reference soon became an affectionate jest between the two of them, though her involvement with Kashatok eventually bled all the joy out of her spirit. Ironically, the very last time he ever saw her smile was also the final time she referred to their private banter, the day he had assured her that the payout Len had promised him would be the solution to all of her worries.

  
_"You really are like Qanglaagix, my brother. Pure trouble, but a great help in my time of need."_

A bitter smirk twisted his lips at the ghost of his sister's voice echoing in his mind. Unlike Raven, he had failed and that failure would haunt him for the rest of his life. Despite Bridger's suggestion to the contrary, he had absolutely no expectations that their conversation would convince those in charge of prosecuting him to consider granting him any degree of leniency; his unscrupulous actions meant that any chance of continuing to rebuild his own life would be forever out of reach. But part of him wondered if, somehow, what he had revealed might not help lead to justice for Kirima. 

In the end, that was all he could hope for.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aleut translations:
> 
> Qanglaagix – Aleut name for Raven
> 
> nukka – little sister
> 
> keelut – an evil earth spirit


	16. Epilogue

**Epilogue**

 

_Kauai Channel, en route to Pearl Harbor  
Ten weeks later_

 

_"Doctor Kristin swim!"_

"Darwin, I can't right now, remember?"

_"Not work, sit. Swim instead."_ Darwin punctuated his demand with a slap of his tail against the water's surface.

Kristin smiled down at the impatient dolphin. "Not until Joshua clears me."

_"Tell Doctor Josh swim."_

She shook her head, still smiling. "That's not how it works, Darwin. I'm still not well enough to be swimming. When I am, that's when Doctor Joshua will clear me."

_"When?"_

"Probably another couple of weeks or so. You'll be one of the first to know, I promise." She gave his melon an affectionate rub before he turned to swim away.

Kristin let her hand idly float on the moon pool's surface while her eyes followed Darwin as he swam in lazy circles; he nudged her hand every time he passed by. Before long, her thoughts began to inevitably drift as she reflected over everything that had happened in the past few months.

Recovering from her kidnapping had been both a physical and an emotional ordeal. Getting her strength back had been the easier part, minus a reoccurrence of the pneumonia that landed her back under observation in medbay for four days. Her emotional recovery was a whole other story. Recurring nightmares continued to disrupt her sleep, often leaving her sluggish during her waking hours. Once she had been cleared to return to limited duty, she pushed herself as much as she could get away with under his careful eye—and the eyes of the entire science crew as well, as none of them would let her overdo it. It drove her crazy and became the cause of more than a few arguments between her and Joshua. But as time went on, they all learned to back down and allow her to push herself a little bit more each day, knowing it was another step on her road to recovery.

Being able to return to work, even with everyone's constant looking over her shoulder, helped keep her mind occupied so that she didn't have to spend as much time dwelling on her ordeal—or on reluctant sympathy for the devil. Len's love for Stark had nearly cost Kristin her life, but she still found herself able to identify with her tormentor on the most basic level of bereavement. She knew that the death of a spouse was often devastating; she'd experienced that loss herself with her first husband—and she knew that grief had the ability to drive people to extreme and sometimes inexcusable measures.

It had taken almost two weeks before she noticed Charli's absence. When she questioned it, the revelation of her involvement with Len stunned her, as did learning of her subsequent suicide upon being found out. Kristin found herself both taken aback at her own inability to see through the girl's duplicity and yet dismayed by the idea that Charli had felt the need to throw away both her future and her life rather than face the consequences of her actions.

At least the latter was something she could give Kamik credit for. As the only survivor of Len's crew, the full brunt of prosecution would be ending up on his shoulders, despite the rumors of potential leniency that hinged on the validity of additional information he claimed to have on Len's other contacts. Two weeks earlier, she had gone down to the brig and confronted him herself against Nathan's objections. He had refused to elaborate on the subject of his sister's death beyond what she already knew, but he apologized for the harm that he had done to her.

The feel of Darwin's snout brushing her fingers distracted her from her troubled musings, an instant before a warm hand closed on her arm. Her intended greeting for the dolphin dissolved into a startled gasp as she spun around to meet Nathan's concerned gaze.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you."

"It's all right. I was just distracted. Have been all morning, in fact." She took a deep breath to calm herself as he moved to sit next to her. "No doubt, it's from lack of proper sleep. And I'm not looking forward to later, either."

"You know you can always call me if you need to talk—any time. Or even stay overnight if you think that will help."

She shook her head. "I can't be expecting you to be at my beck and call because I can't get past this stage of my recovery...."

Nathan gave her arm a gentle squeeze. "Hey. You never have to apologize for having nightmares, especially after what you went through. That's something completely beyond your control."

"Even though I know it's not true, I keep thinking that I should be handling this better by now." Kristin huffed a sigh of frustration. "Then there's also that damn debriefing they want to put me through. At least all these sleepless nights have given me ample time to rehearse possible answers to their more likely questions."

"They will just be wanting to get your side of the story. I can't imagine they will be too harsh with you given what you went through," Nathan remarked. "Now with me...that's another story."

She narrowed her eyes in confusion. "What do you mean?"

"Agent Moonin raised enough hell with Command about how I departed Anchorage without waiting for her team to accompany us. Technically, going off of O'Neill's translation of the coded transmission Kamik sent us put the whole crew at risk because we didn't have sufficient intel on Len's location or operations. So, they'll be putting an official reprimand on my record for a violation of investigative protocol."

"What?! That's absurd. How can they blame you for being proactive in a hostage situation?"

He shrugged. "It amounts to a slap on the wrist, but it is what it is."

"Bloody military stupidity is what it is," she muttered, shaking her head. "Whatever happened to that famous 'no man is to be left behind' standard?"

"That's exactly what I'm going to tell them. The welfare of every member of this crew is my responsibility, which means that I will do everything in my power to ensure their well-being and that I won't leave anyone behind, ever." Nathan placed his hand over hers. "If that means putting myself on the line for you or any of the others, then I'll do just that—and the consequences be damned."

"I know you would." Kristin lifted her free hand to touch his cheek. "Your integrity is one of the things I love about you."

"Oh? And what else is on that list?"

"Oh...quite a few things." She tapped her fingers gently against his cheek, unconsciously leaning closer as his arms slipped around her. His lips met hers in the next instant and she relaxed into his embrace, unwilling to pull away until the telltale hint of tension in her chest became an uncomfortable ache. He seemed to sense her distress and ended the kiss, but kept his arms around her. The unexpected chirp of the audio link on the wall next to her made them both jump. They quickly sat back from each other, exchanging embarrassed, amused smiles as Nathan reached past her to switch it on.

"Bridger."

_"Captain, we'll be docking at Pearl in five minutes. Admiral Odair has sent a launch for you and Doctor Westphalen."_

"Thank you. Tell her we'll be on our way as soon as we're docked." After switching the link off, Nathan rose to his feet and held out a hand for her. "Are you ready?"

Kristin reached out to take the offered hand as she stood. He smiled and gave her fingers a gentle squeeze. She returned his smile for a moment before it faded. "No," she replied honestly. She squeezed back before lacing her fingers through his. "But I'll manage."

They headed out of sea deck a united front; both knowing that the confrontations that lay ahead would not be easy for either of them. Despite that, they both also knew that anything that the future might throw at them could and would be endured as long as they supported each other.

 

***fin***

 

 


End file.
